


carry me home

by intertwingular



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, M/M, Slow Burn, Social Media, Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics, author is an ex-dancer not a skater, cameos by irl skaters & dancers, everyone makes an appearance sooner or later, like the slowest of slow burns, yuuri wins silver at the 2010 olympics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23215282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwingular/pseuds/intertwingular
Summary: He wins silver in the 2010 Olympics, and it feels like everything might finally fall into place.(they don't.)Or, Yuuri wins silver in the 2010 Olympics, and everything changes.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 34
Kudos: 176





	1. searchin' for the place i lost

**Author's Note:**

> its the year of our LORD 2020 and i'm writing yoi fic. god. i have worms. 
> 
> haha. it's kinda weird, writing yoi fic again after like 4 years but you know. the devil works hard, but ren works harder, all that. big thank you to frooch/frankie - who is darling_dontworry on ao3, so pls check our their writing - who beta'd this for me & to jun! who i owe everything to. jun ily <3 and this is for u, just like every yoi fic i write is. 
> 
> title is from inferno, by hiroyuki sawano. (yeah, the irony of that isn't lost on me.) enjoy!

By the time _One Summer’s Day_ peters into silence, Yuuri thinks his lungs might burst. Stamina has never been an issue for him, but this performance might be the one that _makes_ it an issue. The Pacific Coliseum is _too loud_ , cheers bouncing off the walls and echoing around and around and around until Yuuri feels like he might just go deaf with the force of it all. 

All Yuuri can think about is, _Hold your position. Hold your position. Hold-on-a-little-longer._ His coach is mouthing _something_ at him from across the barrier, but it's kind of pointless. Yuuri doesn’t wear contacts while he skates, and his glasses are sitting in the breast pocket of Sado-sensei’s peacoat. 

The announcers are saying something. The crowd is screaming something. All of it flows off of Yuuri like water. All that exists is the breath going in and out of his lungs, the heave of his chest, and the warm ache in his stomach and thighs. All Yuuri can think about,aside from the ache in his arms and the way he wants to just crumple to the ice,is his mom and dad, Mari and Vicchan, Minako-sensei and Yuuko, and Nishigori too, all sitting in front of the TV in the onsen, watching the Olympics — watching _him._

_Are you proud of me?_ Yuuri thinks, staring up at the ceiling of the Pacific Coliseum. _Did I make you proud?_ There’s an ache in his chest, unlike anything Yuuri has ever felt before while performing this routine. 

Yuuri wants Hasetsu’s beach and rocky shores. He wants to run along them in the morning, with Vicchan by his side. He wants to skate in the Ice Castle, holding hands with Yuuko as they skate their way through compulsory figures. Yuuri might even want to fight with Nishigori again, just for the familiarity of it. Yuuri’s been in Tokyo for almost a year now, training and training and training for the Olympics — it’s the furthest he’s ever been from home, the longest he’s been away from Mom and Dad and Mari and Vicchan. 

_I want to go home,_ Yuuri thinks, dropping out from his final pose. The music's over. _One Summer’s Day_ has ended, the last piano note gone from the speaker system that surrounds the Pacific Coliseum, and all that remains from Yuuri’s free skate is the thunderous noise echoing around the arena. 

He barely registers the feeling of his blades against the ice as he skates off, legs wobbly and weak. Sado-sensei says something to him — what it is, Yuuri doesn’t know, the words falling on deaf ears — and Yuuri just barely feels it when Sado-sensei drapes his jacket over his shoulders, steering him to the kiss and cry. 

“Yuuri,” Sado-sensei says, tapping him lightly as they sit. There’s a plush poodle in his hands — when Sado-sensei had gotten that, Yuuri doesn’t know. “Are you okay?” 

Yuuri blinks. “Y-yeah,” he stammers, taking the stuffed animal from Sado-sensei’s hands. It’s roughly the same size as Vicchan, so Yuuri tucks it under his chin, and pretends he’s cuddling with Vicchan in front of the TV in the onsen. “Can I — can I call my mom?” 

Sado-sensei smiles, tucking a loose strand of Yuuri’s hair behind his ears. The movement is almost gentle, but in the end, all it does is make Yuuri miss his parents more. “Sure, Yuuri. I’ve got your phone in my pocket — but let’s wait for your scores, okay? Should only be a few more minutes.” 

So they wait. And they wait, for what must be a thousand years, because only a thousand years could just stretch and stretch and _stretch_ like Yuuri’s time in the kiss and cry does. Every breath hitches in Yuuri’s lungs. Every inhale and exhale sounds like _Hasetsu_ , and _home_ , and the longer Yuuri sits there, the more he wants Sado-sensei to just give him his phone, so he can sit in his room in the Olympic village, and cry at his mom on the phone. 

_“...with a free skate score of_ 166.89, _Japan’s Yuuri Katsuki soars to first place! Now_ there's _a skater to watch in the years to come!”_ They announce it in English before they announce it in Japanese, but Yuuri is already crying by the time they do. There are still three skaters left — Plushenko, Lysacek, and Takahashi-senpai still have to skate — but Yuuri, Yuuri is in _first place._

“I have to call my mom,” he says, mouth dry. “I-I need my phone, I need to call my mom, and my dad, and Mari, and —” Yuuri tries to stand, but his legs give out from beneath him, and he sits back down, heavily, on the bench. 

Sado-sensei hugs him, pulling Yuuri in for a tight hug. “We’re so proud of you, Yuuri,” Sado-sensei murmurs, sounding dangerously close to tears. “All of Japan is _so, so_ proud.” 

Yuuri sniffles, crying harder, burying his face into Sado-sensei’s chest. He probably won’t stay in first — Yuuri is just _Yuuri,_ after all. He’s not Viktor Nikiforov, who isn’t even _here_ , at the Olympics, and he’s not Evengi Plushenko, who’s been a legend for as long as Yuuri can remember. But this, this temporary gold, is enough. 

Sado-sensei hustles Yuuri out from the rink, hand a point of warmth on Yuuri’s back, and all Yuuri can think about is _first, first, first_ , and the sound of Mom crying through the phone. Sado-sensei presses Yuuri’s shitty little flip phone into his trembling hands as they make their way to the dressing rooms. 

Yuuri’s hands won’t stop shaking. Not while he punches in Mom’s phone number, nor while he brings the phone up to his ear, waiting for the dial tone to give way to a familiar voice. He vaguely registers Sado-sensei guiding him to a chair, and the sound of people congratulating him — but the entirety of Yuuri’s world is here, pressed against his ear, shaking as he waits for one of his parents to pick up the phone. 

In the end, it’s Mom that picks up the phone. Yuuri feels as if he’s aged centuries in the time spent waiting for the dial tone to give way to familiar voices. 

_“Yuuri?”_ she asks. Her voice is watery, filled with the tears that Yuuri can feel sliding heavily down his cheeks. _“Yuuri, we just saw on TV — Yuuri, Yuuri, your dad and I, and Mari, and Minako too, we’re all so proud of you!”_ Mom is crying through the phone, harder than Yuuri has ever heard his mom cry. 

“Mom,” Yuuri sobs, curling into himself. He’s eighteen and alone in a foreign country, so, so far from home, and Yuuri feels as if he might shake apart and fly into the sun every time his mom tells him she’s proud. Yuuri is eighteen and an Olympian and his mom is _proud of him._

_“We’ll have katsudon when you get home, okay?”_ There’s a rustling in the background of the call, and faintly, Yuuri can hear Dad asking Mom how he’s doing. _“Ah — your dad wants to know if you’re doing alright. Have you been eating properly? Sleeping well?”_

Yuuri laughs. It’s a wet, ugly sound. “Yeah. I’m okay, Mom. I’m just — I’m really excited to come home. How’s Vicchan?” 

_“Still curled up in your bedroom. He misses you a lot, Yuuri!”_ Something lurches in Yuuri’s chest when Mom says that. _Still curled up in your bedroom._ Vicchan is waiting for him, waiting for Yuuri, and when Yuuri finally returns home, to the onsen and to Hasetsu, Vicchan will still be waiting. 

The months feel more daunting, when Yuuri thinks of them that way. _Vicchan is waiting._ Yuuri knows he should talk to Mari — God knows she’ll give him shit for talking to her last — but he wets his lips, licking them once, twice, and asks his mom, “Mom, can you put Vicchan on the phone?” His voice cracks on Vicchan’s name, and Yuuri ducks further into himself when Oda-senpai turns to give him a concerned look. 

_“Of course,”_ Mom says, her voice oddly hushed. Yuuri waits, still crying, but not quite sobbing anymore, still curled up into a ball, still crouching on top of the chair Sado-sensei settled him into five-to-ten minutes ago, as Mom moves from the main room to Yuuri’s childhood bedroom. _“Vicchan! Oh — hello, Vicchan, I’ve got someone very special on the phone for you right now!”_ Yuuri hears a rustle of fabric as Mom leans down, or leans the house phone against a pillow on Yuuri’s bed, or settles it into Vicchan’s dog bed. 

“Hi, Vicchan,” Yuuri murmurs, voice wobbling. “I missed you.” He tries to sound chipper and cheerful, but all he can hear is Vicchan’s excited panting, and the soft _boof_ his dog whuffs out. 

Yuuri spends a whole twenty minutes like that, crying on the phone with Vicchan on the other side. He’s vaguely aware of Oda-senpai hovering, concerned, just outside of Yuuri’s shitty, glasses-less vision, and he’s vaguely aware of when Takahashi-senpai joins him, both of them whispering to Sado-sensei in rapid, rushed Japanese. 

“Yuuri,” Sado-sensei finally says, as Evengi Plushenko takes to the rink. “Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom, okay? I think you need to wash your face a bit.” 

Yuuri sniffles, clutching his phone like a lifeline. He can still hear Vicchan barking through the speakers, but he can barely see anything around him — his eyes are too puffy from crying, and Sado-sensei still has Yuuri’s glasses. “Wha—?” he asks, voice raspy. 

“Oh boy,” Takahashi-senpai mutters. Yuuri’s stomach drops off the top of Tokyo Tower. 

_“Quiet,”_ Sado-sensei hisses, tone steely. “Yuuri, you’ve got to stand on the podium in at least twenty minutes.” He turns Yuuri’s head gently to the TV screen in the dressing room, broadcasting some Canadian news network’s program on the Olympics. 

_Evan Lysacek, USA, 257.67 — First Place,_ the scoreboard reads. And right underneath him: _Yuuri Katsuki, Japan, 256.59 — Second Place._ Evengi Plushenko is the last skater of the day, the last skater in the _men’s division_ to skate in the 2010 Winter Olympics. 

No matter what Plushenko scores, Yuuri is on the podium. _Yuuri is on the podium._ Yuuri is eighteen, he is crying at his dog on the phone, and he is an Olympic medalist. The world is round, Fukuoka is freezing in the winter, and Yuuri is an Olympic medalist. 

“Oh my God,” Yuuri says, dumbfounded. Vicchan lets out a plaintive, questioning whine as the flip phone slips through Yuuri’s fingers, clattering to the floor. “I’m —” He chokes on the phrase, turning to look at Sado-sensei with wide eyes. “I’m—?” 

Sado-sensei smiles, warm and wide. “You _are,_ Yuuri,” Sado-sensei confirms, clapping a hand onto Yuuri’s shoulder. “Now, come on. You need to wash your face.” He steers Yuuri out of the dressing room, through the throng of skaters watching Evengi Plushenko’s free skate. Yuna Kim says something, shouting it through cupped hands, but Yuuri doesn’t register it. 

He thinks Sado-sensei apologizes for him. Yuuri hopes Sado-sensei said something. Yuna Kim is one of the only skaters in the Olympics anywhere near Yuuri’s age. She’s nice, too. They’ve both gone out to get coffee together on the days when there are no skating events running. They both agree that Western Starbucks aren’t anywhere near as good as the ones in Japan and Korea. 

But in the meantime, Yuuri lets Sado-sensei herd him into the boy’s bathroom. His hands shake as he turns the sink knob, and they shake under the freezing cold water too. Yuuri stares at the water, pooling in his cupped hands, for a few minutes, before pulling his gaze away. He can’t even see his reflection in the water anyways — no glasses, after all — and Yuuri’s sure that if he _could_ , he’d just work himself into a panic over how red and puffy his eyes are. 

So Yuuri splashes water on his face, and breathes in and out, over and over again, until he feels human enough to wander out onto the ice and stare into the lenses of hundreds of cameras. He hopes someone in the dressing room picked up his flip phone, and that someone had hung up for him. Yuuri hopes that Vicchan isn’t too worried. Yuuri hopes he’s still in second, that somehow, against all the odds, he’s still a _silver medalist._

But impossible hopes aside, the fact remains that Yuuri has to go out, on the ice, and stand on a podium in front of the entire world, and accept a medal. It’s not _gold_ , of course, and it might not even be silver, but it’s still an Olympic medal. 

Yuuri wonders if it makes him greedy, wanting more than just silver or bronze. He’s not _dumb_ , of course he realizes that being given the chance to go to the Olympics is an enormous honor in and of itself, not to mention _medaling_ , but still, despite himself, Yuuri wants more. He wants the gold. 

He takes a deep breath. Clutches the cold porcelain of the sink, and just — _breathes. That’s enough thinking for one day_ , Yuuri tells himself, and turns to look at Sado-sensei. 

“Can I have my glasses?” he asks, pulling the sleeves of his track jacket down. 

Sado-sensei nods, taking Yuuri’s familiar blue frames from the front pocket of his peacoat. “Are you ready?”

Yuuri pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The world is sharp, thrown back into full color and clarity once more. Yuuri blinks once, then twice, as his eyes struggle to adjust for a moment. “I...I think so,” Yuuri says haltingly. “Yeah. Yeah.” 

Yuuri takes a step out of the men’s bathroom and Yuna Kim is there, squealing delightedly as she hurls herself at him, sequined skirt flashing in the stark lighting. “Yuuri!” she shouts, English heavily accented, “Congratulations! You’ll definitely get gold in 2014!” 

Yuuri startles, barely managing to steady himself under Yuna’s weight. “Wh-what?” He stammers, as Yuna pulls him away from Sado-sensei, toward the large TV broadcasting the scores. 

_Evan Lysacek, USA, 257.67 — First Place,_ the scoreboard reads. _Yuuri Katsuki, Japan, 256.59 — Second Place. Evgeni Plushenko, Russia, 256.36 — Third Place._ The scores go on, lower and lower, but all Yuuri can see, branded into the back of his eyelids, is _Yuuri Katsuki, Japan, 256.59 — Second Place._

Silver. Yuuri is a silver medalist. 

“Oh my God,” Yuuri says, for what has to be the six millionth time today. “I —” His head whips around, and Yuuri stares at Sado-sensei, dangerously close to tears. “Sado-sensei!” 

Sado-sensei smiles again, so heart wrenchingly _proud_ of Yuuri, that Yuuri can’t help but feel as if he hasn’t done nearly enough to deserve it. “You did it, Yuuri,” is all Sado-sensei says in response. 

_I did it_ , Yuuri thinks, heart pounding in his ears. _Oh my God, I_ did _it._ The world is spinning around Yuuri, and it doesn’t feel as if it’s about to stop any time soon. He is eighteen, and he is a silver medalist. 

“Better get out there,” Sado-sensei says, mild as milk. His smile is so, so wide, and all Yuuri wants to do right now is cry. 

“Right,” Yuuri babbles, nodding his head. “Right — right. I’ll go — I’ll go do that.” Yuna giggles next to him, the sound muffled behind her hands. 

“Congrats,” Yuna tells him again, this time in halting Japanese. She punches his shoulder and smiles, bright and wide. “I’m excited to see what you’ve got planned for the Gala!” And she wanders away, back to her coach and the rest of the South Korean skaters. 

Right. The Exhibition Gala. 

“Don’t think about that now,” Sado-sensei warns Yuuri. “Just go out there, accept your medal, and have a good time, okay? You’ve got a few days before the exhibition skate.” 

“Right.” Yuuri bobs his head. “Right.” He feels like he should be screaming, or panicking, or _something_ , but all that settles over Yuuri in the moment is a strange sense of calm. The Pacific Coliseum is laid out before him, spotlight turning the fresh ice to glass, and Olympic staff are setting up the podium. In ten minutes, he has to walk out there, stand on one side of Evan Lysacek, and bow his head to accept silver. 

And he does. Before long, Evan Lysacek emerges from wherever he was holed up while the final scores were being tallied. The American is _tall_ , taller than Yuuri thinks he’ll ever be, considering both Mom and Dad’s genetics. So does Evgeni Plushenko, actually. Both of them tower Yuuri — Plushenko is _ten years older_ than Yuuri, for God’s sake. 

It’s a little daunting, standing up there on the podium with the both of them. The panic that had faded once Yuuri set eyes on the fresh ice has reemerged with a vengeance, and it’s really all Yuuri can do not to throw up the minute the cameras swivel his way. 

“Don’t worry,” Plushenko whispers, smiling toothily at the cameras to their right. “Just smile and wave — it’ll be over soon.” 

So Yuuri does. He accepts the small bouquet of roses with a wobbly grin, and bows his head to accept the silver medal. When he rises, the weight of it settles around his neck like a noose. The chill of the metal permeates through the fabric of Yuuri’s JSF track jacket and the thin fabric of his free skate’s costume. 

_Silver_ , Yuuri thinks, and after the ceremony ends, he lifts the medal, staring at it in the chaos of the slowly emptying dressing room. It feels like a sin, to want more than silver. Yuuri’s entire career was started on one thing, after all — being able to skate on the same ice as Viktor Nikiforov, who wasn’t even _at_ the Vancouver Olympics. Yuuri should be more upset about that, but he just...isn’t. 

Instead, all Yuuri can think about is _silver_ , and how a part of him — steadily growing larger and louder — wishes he’d won _gold._ Because for a few, shining minutes, Yuuri had been first place, had been the gold medallist, and now he wishes he’d stayed first place. 

It scares him a little, this feeling. Yuuri’s no stranger to ambition, after all — he wouldn’t have pursued a career on the ice this far, wouldn’t have travelled so far from home, if there wasn’t some sort of other ambition fueling it, besides “skate on the same ice as Viktor Nikiforov”. But while Yuuri isn’t a stranger to ambition, this burning desire to be first, to take gold, is wholly new in its sudden intensity. 

Yuuri clutches the silver medal tighter in his hands. _Stop thinking about it like that_ , Yuuri tries to tell himself. _You won_ silver _at your first Winter Olympics. Be proud of that._ He holds that knowledge underneath his tongue as he packs his skates and slips into comfortable pants. It feels a bit like swallowing bile, like trying to hold back the queasy roiling of his stomach that accompanies every performance, but Yuuri forces himself to keep it there, tucked beneath his tongue like the pounding of _silver, silver, silver_ , in his ears is something sweet. 

“— Ready to go?” Sado-sensei’s voice cuts through Yuuri’s rapidly derailing train of thought. His coach has a few of the plush puppies thrown onto the ice nestled in his arms, sewn-on faces an adorable reminder of Vicchan, who is waiting for Yuuri back at home. “I’ll walk you to the Olympic Village — I need to check on Kozuka’s ankle, anyways.” They both know the reason Sado-sensei is walking Yuuri back to the Village is because he’s worried about Yuuri. Not because of Kozuka-senpai’s ankle, which hadn’t even swollen after the elder skater’s botched triple axel. 

“Yeah.” Yuuri stares at the toy dogs for a moment. “...Can I keep some of them?” Most of the toys and plushies thrown onto the ice after his routines are donated to various kid-related charities across Japan, but they just look _so much_ like Vicchan, and all of a sudden, all Yuuri can feel is a deep, burning _ache_ in his chest. 

_I want to go home,_ Yuuri thinks. _I want to go home._

Sado-sensei gives Yuuri two of the Vicchan lookalikes. Yuuri tucks them in his arms, beside the one Sado-sensei had given him, back at the kiss and cry, and fails to resist the urge to bury his face into the cotton scruff of one of the plush dogs. Someone snorts behind him — Yuuri thinks it might be Oda-senpai — but Yuuri ignores it. His head feels heavy, now that the adrenaline has worn off. 

There are so many things Yuuri has to think about now. He has to figure out what he’s going to skate for the Exhibition Gala, has to figure out what he’s going to _wear_ , because Yuuri hadn’t even packed a spare costume for the Exhibition Gala. He hadn’t expected to be performing solo, after all. Sure, Yuuri knew he’d be performing in the big group skate arranged six months prior to the Olympics, but he’d expected to perform it in his free skate costume, or at the very least, his JSF jacket and a pair of black slacks. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to wear,” Yuuri mumbles, halfway to the Olympic Village. He wants to sleep, most of all, and try to ignore the swirling mass of anxiety building in the pit of his stomach, but Yuuri knows that if he does that, he’ll miss the press conference for the medallists later tonight. 

Sado-sensei turns to look at him. “For the press conference?” he asks. “It’s just standard procedure, Yuuri. Nice jacket, nice pants. You can wear your glasses for this.” 

“No,” Yuuri says, “my exhibition skate. I didn’t pack any extra costumes. I don’t really have a program prepared either.” 

Sado-sensei purses his lips together. “Oh,” the man murmurs, “I see. Well, I’ll phone your coach, to see if we can try and ship one of your exhibition program costumes over before the Gala. Shouldn’t be too bad. Do you have a program in mind?” 

Yuuri shakes his head. “I...I’m going to call Minako-sensei about it,” Yuuri tells Sado-sensei. “I think she’ll have a good idea what to do.” 

“Okukawa?” Sado-sensei asks, pushing his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. “Ah — the ballerina, I see. That sounds like a good idea to me, Yuuri.” They turn a bend, coming up on the Olympic Village, and Sado-sensei reaches down, ruffling Yuuri’s hair. 

“You did well,” Sado-sensei says. Yuuri blinks back more tears. “You’ve done so well, Yuuri. Take a rest, okay? I’ll see you at the rink after lunch tomorrow.” 

Mutely, Yuuri nods, still at a loss for words. The Olympic Village looms above him, tall and imposing, same as it had been this morning, and all the mornings leading up to this one. Maybe Yuuri should feel different — he’s won an Olympic medal, he’s made his country proud — but Yuuri just feels tired. A little hyper, certainly, but Yuuri wants to sleep. He wants to curl up, back to the wide windows, and watch movies with Mari, who is hundreds of thousands of miles away. 

Yuuri sets his skates beside the door. He kicks off his boots, throws his Team Japan jacket onto the chair by the desk, and throws himself onto the bed. In Yuuri’s pocket, his phone buzzes. Blearily, Yuuri pulls it from his track pants and squints at it, glasses pushed halfway up his forehead. 

**yuutan (18:03):** YUUCHAN PICK UP YOUR PHONE OMG OMG  
**yuutan (18:04):** come oooon yuuchan all this excitement isnt healthy for me  
**yuutan (18:04):** you know  
**yuutan (18:04):** your very pregnant best friend  
**yuutan (18:05):** seriously yuuchan!! pick up!! takeshi wants to talk to you too 

**me (18:06):** i’m here, i’m here  
**me** (18:06): hi yuuko

**yuutan (18:07):** yuuchan!  
**yuutan (18:07):** you sound tired…  
**yuutan (18:08):** everything okay? 

**me (18:08):** yeah everything’s fine, i’m just tired  
**me (18:08):** whats going on?

**yuutan (18:09):** nothing!  
**yuutan (18:09):** just checking up on u, we were at the onsen for a viewing party  
**yuutan (18:10):** okukawa-sensei won’t stop talking abt one summer’s day, lol 

**me (18:10):** can you ask her smth for me?  
**me (18:10):** if she’s still at the onsen 

**yuutan (18:11):** sure, she’s right here  
**yuutan (18:11):** she wants to know why ur not just texting her 

**me (18:11):** ...lazy

**yuutan (18:12):** LOL 

**me (18:13):** can u ask her if any of my exhibition programs are good enough?  
**me (18:13):** for the gala 

**yuutan (18:13):** okay gimmie a sec  
**yuutan (18:14):** she says to call her

* * *

Yuuri sighs, pushing his hands through his hair. Breathing is kind of hard, lying down like this, curled around himself like a cat. So Yuuri pushes himself into a seated position, fixes his hair self-consciously, and calls Minako-sensei. 

_“Yuuri!”_ She picks up on the first ring. _“Shame on you for not calling me earlier.”_ Her voice goes soft, and there’s the clink of beer bottles being set down, and the rustle of fabric as Minako-sensei moves. If Yuuri closes his eyes, he can see the main foyer of the onsen laid out in front of him. He can see Minako-sensei, padding out of the room on sock-covered feet, out into the winding wooden hallways, trench coat brushing gently against the back of her legs. 

“Sorry, Minako-sensei,” Yuuri murmurs, mouth dry. “I meant to.” The excuse sounded lame in his head, and it sounds lame, spoken aloud too. 

Minako-sensei sighs, the sound gusty and soft. _“We’re so proud of you, Yuuri,”_ is what she says. Her voice is so, so tender, and before Yuuri knows it, he’s hiccuping quietly into the palms of his hands, eyes prickling and burning as he tries not to cry. _“Don’t cry,”_ Minako-sensei says, voice pitched low and soothing. _“Oh, Yuuri.”_

“I — I’m _sorry_ ,” Yuuri sobs. His breath is hitching, and his shoulders can’t seem to stop shaking. All Yuuri can do is cry and cry and cry, until his face feels hot and swollen, and his voice is scratchy and hoarse. He feels wrung out and worn, and all together too miserably homesick for someone who has just medalled in the Olympics. “I can’t _stop._ ” 

_“I know,”_ is all Minako-sensei says, after a long, long while. _“You’re our little glass-hearted Yuuri.”_ And Yuuri knows she never means it in a cruel way, not like the kids at school, who would poke and prod at him, like Yuuri was some kind of animal on display, but it stings a little, too close to truth to feel comfortable. _“Buck up, kiddo. You’ve still got an exhibition skate in a few days, don’tcha?”_

“Yeah,” Yuuri finally mumbles, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. I do. And I have no idea what to skate. Minako-sensei, I didn’t even pack a _costume_.” His voice cracks, pitching higher and higher with a renewed sense of panic and horror as the enormity of it all settles in. 

_“Oh boy. Yuuri, you remember the routines we went through...oh, I don’t know…_ shit, _when was it — ah, last summer, right?”_

Yuuri frowns. “Uh...sort of?” He licks his lips, trying to remember. There had been his floor recreation of Viktor Nikiforov’s final Juniors routine, and there had been his and Yuuko’s improvised pair routine, and there had been — “Wait,” Yuuri says, interrupting his own train of thought. “Minako-sensei, are you talking about that ballet routine you taught me? The one I turned into a free skate?” 

Minako-sensei laughs, and the sound is raspy, as if it got caught in her throat. _“You say that like you didn’t give me the music for it in the first place, Yuuri. Besides, your free skate was to a Hisashi piece too. Consider it...ah, thematic, I guess.”_

Yuuri laughs. “I guess.” He pushes himself up off of his bed, padding over to where he’d set his backpack down five days prior. Yuuri pulls it into his lap and rifles through it, searching for his mp3. It flickers weakly before turning on, and Yuuri frowns when he checks the battery, sticking his hand back into his backpack to fish around for the charger. He holds his flip phone in between his cheek and his shoulder while he scrolls through the music he’d loaded onto it with Yuuko — and miracle of miracles, _Oriental Winds_ is on there. 

Yuuri could cry from relief alone, at this point. “I have it,” he tells Minako-sensei, and fights with the charger and the outlet for a few moments, as he tries to plug the mp3 in to charge. “Yuuko and I put it on my mp3 player before I left for Vancouver.” 

_“That’s good. You’ll make them weep. That ought to be your goal, anyways.”_ Minako-sensei’s words are playfully biting as always, but Yuuri recognizes the familiar sentiment behind them. When he’d first started learning ballet from her, Minako-sensei had told him something she had learnt from her own instructors: dancers were meant to be, above all else, something devastatingly beautiful. 

_“I met one prima, back when I was still in the professional circuit, and I swear, she was the best dancer I ever saw, Yuuri. They called her a monster, Yuuri, and that was how we all knew she was the best of the best. You’re only a monster when you overwhelm both your audience and your peers with emotion,”_ she had said. There was something wistfully pensive about it, and it had stayed with Yuuri, the memory of those words lingering in the back of his mind for years. _Terribly beautiful,_ Minako-sensei had said. When he was younger, Yuuri had thought, _I want to be like that, too._

“I will,” Yuuri promises. “I will. But what am I going to do about my costume? I didn’t pack anything.” He lowers his voice, ashamed. “I didn’t think I’d even get this far.” 

_“Don’t you worry about that, Yuuri. Just go and practice with that coach, and Hiroko and I will handle the costume. Just focus on skating, okay? And have fun — you’ve earned it.”_ Her tone leaves little room for argument, and it’s all Yuuri can do just to agree. 

As it usually is with Minako-sensei, Yuuri leaves their conversation feeling a bit winded, a bit overwhelmed, but better overall. He closes his phone with a click, and sets it down on the bedside table, and shuffles into the en suite to take a shower. 

_Focus on skating,_ he tells himself. _Have fun._ Yuuri mulls it over as he turns on the water, letting it go from tepid to near-scalding. _I’ve earned it,_ he tells himself, stepping under the stream. _I’ve earned it._

Maybe, if he says it enough times, it’ll feel true.

* * *

**nikiforoovs:**

> ok, so i wasn’t expecting to care much about the results of the figure skating olympics, since viktor wasn’t going to be there this time around (WHY olympic committee, WHY?) but oh my god, this was just...super unexpected

* * *

men’s figure skating >> olympics 2010  
**queenkatya** wrote:

**MEN’S SINGLES FIGURE SKATING PODIUM RESULTS, OLYMPICS 2010**

Okay, everyone, now that the ABC livestream of the men’s singles free skate is over & we’ve had our podium announced, here they are: 

**FIRST PLACE:** Evan Lysacek, USA, 257.67  
**SECOND PLACE:** Yuuri Katsuki, Japan, 256.59  
**THIRD PLACE:** Evegeni Plushenko, Russia, 256.36

I think it’s safe to say that _none_ of us saw this coming — while Lysacek has been a long-time favorite to win gold at the Vancouver Olympics, especially since Viktor Nikiforov was confirmed to be not a part of the Russian team back in June, Katsuki came out of literal nowhere, managing to beat Plushenko to second place by a pretty tight margin. 

So, yeah! The podium is a _huge_ shock this Olympics. Based off of what I could find on the JSF’s website, Katsuki _just_ finished his final season in Juniors, and this is his first time competing in the Olympics. Apparently, he was also an alternate — according to this tweet — but take that info with a grain of salt, since we haven’t heard it from the ISU, JSF, or Japan’s Olympic Committee either. 

Thoughts? Other information? 

**REPLIES**

**cannibalprince** wrote:  
lol im calling fraud. ur seriously telling me some rando japanese kid fresh out of juniors managed to podium at the ******* olympics? yea ok sure 

> **ice-ometric** wrote:  
>  Is it really that hard to believe? I smell some bitterness here. 

> **sk8grl98** wrote:  
>  I agree with ice-ometric. If you watched Katsuki’s FS and his SS, both were _incredibly_ beautiful. Sure, they weren’t the most technically difficult, but he’s  
>  not going to be pulling quad flips out of nowhere like Nikiforov. Give the kid a break. His triples aresolid, and the one quad he has isn’t half bad either, especially  
>  for what, 17? 

> **cannibalprince** wrote:  
>  doesnt change the fact that hes not good enough for silver lol

**marimasu** wrote:  
YUURI-KUN! Yeah, he’s pretty well-known in Japan. You can find some of his old programs here and here! ice_madonna on YouTube also has a lot of videos of Yuuri-kun skating at his home rink. I think they’re rinkmates or something? 

**anonymous** wrote:  
Congrats to Lysacek!! He really deserves this win 

> **Yellow-Belly** wrote:  
>  he really did! 

**SHOW MORE**

* * *

Yuuri is carving compulsory figures into the fresh ice in the Pacific Coliseum, _Oriental Winds_ in his ears, when Minako-sensei sweeps in, a whirlwind in human form, with a harried Sado-sensei on her heels. 

“Yuuri!” she shouts, voice ringing in the silence of the arena. “Come here — say hello!” There’s a jingle that accompanies her footsteps every time she walks, heeled boots clicking against the floor, and as Yuuri skates to the dividers, he can feel his heart soar into his throat as he realizes what the jingle is. 

Trotting alongside her is _Vicchan_ , the tags of his collar jingling merrily with every tiny step he takes. 

“You brought — you brought _Vicchan_ ,” Yuuri says, awed, after he finishes hugging Minako-sensei. Vicchan woofs in response to hearing his name, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth as he hops energetically around Yuuri’s feet. The way he manages to avoid hurting himself on the blades of Yuuri’s skates is a testament to Vicchan’s many hours spent curled up on the bleachers at the Ice Castle, waiting for Yuuri and Yuuko to finish skating. 

“Vicchan isn’t the only thing I brought,” Minako-sensei says, self-satisfied and smug. “I also brought you your exhibition skate costume.” She holds a garment bag in the air, hanger dangling from a single, crooked finger. 

Yuuri reaches up, taking both the garment bag and Vicchan’s leash from Minako-sensei. “Thank you,” he tells her, voice quiet. “Thank you so much, Minako-sensei.” His heart feels full enough to _burst._

“ _Hah,_ ” she laughs, leaning against the barrier. “There’s no need to _thank_ me, Yuuri.” Minako-sensei reaches across the barrier, grinning widely. She ruffles Yuuri's hair, rough and ignorant of his protests, before pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to his forehead. “This is what I’m here for, kiddo.” 

“ _Still_.” Yuuri tries to flatten his hair with his free hand. “Seriously. Thank you, Minako-sensei.” There are so many things that Yuuri wants to say, but he doesn’t have the words for them. Not in Japanese, not in English, not in any spoken language Yuuri knows. So he desperately hopes that Minako-sensei understands the enormity of this — what it all means to Yuuri, that she’s here, standing in front of him, _smiling_ at him. 

But Minako-sensei just waves him off again. “Ugh. Don’t sweat it, okay? You can thank me by showing me _Oriental Winds._ ” She takes the garment bag and Vicchan from him, setting both down atop the bleachers as she walks away. “Well?” Minako-sensei gestures to the ice. “Are you going to show me?” 

Yuuri nods, skating out into the center of the ice, as the music begins to play, soft and giddy. He raises his arms, pushes off, and begins to skate. 

_Even if I don’t have the words,_ Yuuri thinks, _I can still show her in my skating. Can you hear me? Will you meet me where I am?_

* * *

The final, rapid chords of _Oriental Winds_ comes to a close, and Yuuri poses, listening to rolling, thundering applause as it echoes throughout the Pacific Coliseum. He catches Minako-sensei’s gaze, all the way across the ice, and Yuuri thinks she winks at him, holds Vicchan up in the air, too — though his vision is terrible without his glasses on, so Yuuri can’t really tell _what_ Minako-sensei is doing, up there in the stands. 

All he has right now is the roaring in his ears, the pounding of his heart in his chest, and the feeling of sweat, dripping slowly down his temples. It all feels _right_. It feels like something missing has finally settled into place in Yuuri’s chest — like things are _easy_ for once, in a way things never are for Yuuri.

So he just breathes and breathes and breathes, sucking in the cold air until his lungs burn and he breaks his ending pose. Yuuri basks in the odd sensation of _right_ and _good_ , and savors it, tucking it beneath his tongue, as he waits for it to vanish, and be replaced by the usual creep and crawl of anxiety and dread and everything in between. 

Yuuri’s chest heaves with effort as he breathes. But everything feels _alright_ for once. 

_You deserve this_ , Yuuri repeats, a silent mantra. _You deserve this._

For once, it feels like it might be true.


	2. barely catchin' my breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the year after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so incredibly sorry for the long wait between updates, it's literally been two months and ehhh i don't have much of an excuse to offer other than - this ran away from me _soooo_ quickly. as you can probably see, this chapter is literally double ch1, so uh. enjoy, because it's around 29 pages in docs. woohoo. 
> 
> bit of experimentation w/chapter two - you'll notice that the social media parts are playing a much bigger role now, and i've begun to include TV broadcast transcripts. (no moorooka just yet, haha) 
> 
> again, i hope you enjoy this absolute doozy of an update!

sports > figure skating > men’s 2011 season

**WHO TO WATCH: 2011 MEN’S GRAND PRIX SERIES**

**by: Maxwell Antioch**

It’s always hard to follow a Winter Olympics year, especially in figure skating, but this year’s Grand Prix Series promises to catch the world’s eye just as much, if not more than, the 2010 Vancouver Olympics. Here at MailDaily, we’ve put together a list of the men’s figure skaters _you_ should be watching during this year’s Grand Prix Series. 

**1\. Viktor Nikiforov**

This comes as a surprise to absolutely no one. Nikiforov swept into the figure skating scene in 2002, winning his first ever Grand Prix Final in the Junior’s bracket at age 13 — one of the youngest winners in the competition’s history. Now a juggernaut in the figure skating world, you’d be hard pressed to name a competition Nikiforov _hasn’t_ taken gold in. (Aside from Four Continents, where European skaters are not eligible to compete, and the Olympics, which Nikiforov has yet to compete in.) 

Nikiforov still manages to wow the crowds every time he takes to the ice, with surprising costume, music, and routine choices — even notoriously shaking the skating world to it’s core when he debuted his quad flip at 18, at his first Senior division Grand Prix Final. 

Even now, despite leaving his Juniors days behind, for many skaters, Nikiforov remains the man to beat — he may not have won gold yet, but it’s only a matter of time before he does. Keep an eye on this one — we’re going to see great things from him. 

**TO READ THE FULL ARTICLE SUBSCRIBE TO MAILDAILY HERE…**

* * *

men’s figure skating >> wank  
**xXevegenishole42Xx** wrote:

**So, what the actual Fuck were the 2010 Olympics**

Ok so like I’m not gonna lie just what???were???the 2010 Olympics?? I know it’s been a few months since then but are we really gonna just sit here and accept the fact that Lysacek won without any fucking quads, that Japanese kid took silver with what barely looks like a 4T, and Plushenko got bronze with his 4T/3T combo???What the actual fuck, Olympic committee? 

Look ok I know that people say this shit all the time, but really I think its a conspiracy. Especially that Japanese skater, whatever his name is. Kat-something? Its obviously some sad fucking attempt to push diversity or discredit the Russian federation ok, like obviously Lysacek got pity points because he was dumb enough to fuck up his ankle before the fucking Olympics, and they probably felt bad for the Japanese skaters since they’ve never taken an Olympic medal home before. 

It’s such bullshit like we all know Plushenko should’ve come in first — he’s the only skater at the Olympics with any real skill this year and we all know it. Too bad the judges are too concerned with political correctness and faovritisim to actually recognize real skill. 

**30 comments…**

* * *

After his final Juniors season, Yuuri makes the difficult decision to move to Detroit. The decision had _felt_ easy to make, sitting beside Sado-sensei after his performance of _Oriental Winds_ , listening to a coach from America — Celestino Cialdini, Yuuri remembers, if only because the man’s name seemed to fit him near perfectly — talk about the opportunities available for Yuuri at his skate club back in the states. 

But now, standing in the center of his childhood bedroom, surrounded by his posters of Viktor, and all the little odds and ends that had somehow added up after all the years, Yuuri finds it unbearably hard to say goodbye. He hasn’t even started packing yet. It’s been a week since he got off the phone with Coach Cialdini, confirming his move to Detroit. Longer, since Yuuri had sat his TOEFLs and sent in the paperwork for his visa. Coach Cialdini had promised to hold onto any paperwork that had come in from his university in the interim, but Yuuri had tucked all the paperwork for his visa into a clear file with shaking hands when it had arrived in the mail, official and all too easy to destroy, two weeks earlier. 

But aside from a steadily growing mountain of paperwork, a few college application fees, and a larger-than-usual phone bill, Yuuri has a million plans and nothing to show for them. The cardboard boxes he and Mari had gone out to get last week are still folded up and leaning against Yuuri’s childhood desk. Every time Yuuri goes to pick one up and assemble it, his knees knock and his vision blurs, and Yuuri has to sit down before he falls over from sheer emotion. 

It shouldn’t be this hard to pack. Yuuri has spent the past five years of his life doing it, after all. He’s lived out of a suitcase in between competitions for the Grand Prix Juniors, has packed and unpacked in the middle of exam season, and gone to sit his midterms and finals, only to return home and pack and unpack all over again. 

For a sport that really only takes up half of Yuuri’s year, it feels awfully life consuming at times. Yuuri’s suitcase has seen more of his life than the poster-covered walls of his childhood bedroom and something about that just burns, just a little bit. 

Yuuri turns to look at Vicchan. The toy poodle is laid atop a small pillow, on Yuuri’s bed, tongue lolling as his tail thumps a steady, pleased rhythm. “You wanna do this for me?” Yuuri asks, taking a seat on his bed. “I think you’d do a better job than me, Vicchan.” 

The door creaks as Mari steps in, the smell of smoke following her. “Don’t ask the dog to pack for you, little brother.” She reaches across Yuuri to give Vicchan some scratches behind his ears. “The only thing that’ll get packed is that pillow he’s always lying on and Mom’s striped slippers.” Mari tucks a lock of hair behind one heavily pierced ear. “Scoot,” she says, waving at Yuuri. 

Yuuri sighs, picking up Vicchan — pillow and all — and scoots to the end of his bed. Vicchan wuffs at the sudden movement, placing his small paws on Yuuri’s shoulders as he licks enthusiastically at Yuuri’s cheeks. Mari laughs, as Yuuri tries to calm his dog down, and falls backwards, onto the pile of pillows and neatly folded blankets laid atop Yuuri’s bed. 

“He’s gonna miss you,” Mari says, reaching over to tousle Yuuri’s messy hair. “We both will.” 

Yuuri nods, playing idly with Vicchan’s paws. “I want to stay,” Yuuri admits, and it is both truth and lie at once. _I want to stay_ , Yuuri says, but as much as he wants to stay here, comfortable in his home, surrounded by people who know him and (somehow) love him, Yuuri has always felt a buzzing just underneath his skin.

The only time the buzzing has gone silent is when Yuuri takes to the ice — and it only quiets when the chill of the rink is biting, stinging, nipping at the tips of his fingers and the apples of his cheeks, the ugly flush Yuuri gets from the cold spreading like fire ‘till Yuuri can no longer feel it. 

“You don’t mean that,” Mari says, and her voice is filled with an emotion Yuuri can’t quite place. She pulls a pack of smokes out from within her jinbei, and crooks her head out the window, toward the hot springs and the bleach white shores of Hasetsu’s rocky beaches. 

Yuuri slowly settles Vicchan back onto the bed and steps out of his bedroom, following Mari down the familiar hallways of the onsen. “I don’t smoke,” he tells her, following her out the sliding doors, bare feet slapping noisily against the cobblestone. 

Mari rolls her eyes. “Duh,” she says, words half garbled around a cigarette. She tosses him her zippo, and Yuuri nearly fumbles the catch under Mari’s hawk-like stare. “Gimme a light, would you?” They’re steadily approaching the bridge that connects the onsen to the rest of slow, sleepy Hasetsu. This too, is familiar. Yuuri remembers the feeling of stone through the soles of his sneakers, as he ran lap after lap around town, in between time at the rink and time spent in a gakuran, staring out the windows of his classroom, waiting for the teachers to dismiss them for the day. 

Yuuri cannot name any of his teachers. He cannot name a single classmate either — both Yuuko and Takeshi are a year older, and though Yuuko had stopped by to eat lunch with him every day she could while they were all still in school, aside from those singular, shining moments with her, everything about middle and high school are nothing more than a blurry imposition. 

Yuuri thinks he remembers one instance of classroom duty, and being locked in the classroom with his partner, watching the rain as it fell, heavy and imposing. They had waited out the storm, but Yuuri had forgotten to call home, and by the time he finally arrived on the doorstep of the onsen, back soaked and bicycle well on its way to rusting, his parents had worried themselves sick. 

He lights Mari’s cigarette. The zippo comes to life with a snap and a crackle, and then a flare of light as fire begins to dance on the tip of it, flame flickering blue, then white, then ruby red, over and over again. Mari leans in, coming closer and closer, until the tip of her cigarette catches fire, and she pulls away, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her pants. The smell of tobacco smoke fills the air between them, overpowering the scent of the sea. The smoke curls around Mari, and Yuuri watches mesmerized, as his sister begins to blow smoke rings. He watches as they form with every languid puff of Mari’s cigarette, fading away once the breeze touches them. 

Yuuri stares out, toward the sea, the horizon, and what lies beyond it. In two week’s time, he will be somewhere beyond Hasetsu, beyond Japan’s shores, a lone boy walking among ghosts. When his grandmother was still alive, still holed up in the only room in the onsen where no one dares to go anymore, she would sit Yuuri on her knee, and speak to him in hushed tones of her life before she married Yuuri’s grandfather. She would speak of ghosts on distant shores, of lands where there was no scent of the sea, only sand, colored like the earth and like flame, and the sound of distant death. 

All of it, every story, every word, every small, hitched breath in between, was cautionary. But Yuuri has never once shied away from what burns him. 

“I’ll call,” he tells Mari, eyes still trained on the sea and the horizon. “Every day. I promise.” 

Mari exhales. There are no smoke rings, this time. Just gray smog and the cloying, burning smell of tobacco. “Don’t make promises you won’t keep,” she warns, and takes a long drag. “Just do what you can.” 

Yuuri doesn’t have a response for that.

* * *

**TRANSCRIPT FROM TV ASAHI’S BROADCAST OF THE 2010 JPG COURCHEVEL CUP  
AUG. 26, 2010, 16:27.**

**OGATA:** And we’re back. This is Ogata Mayumi, TV Asahi senior sports correspondent, reporting live from the 2010 Courchevel Cup, in Courchevel, France. 

**SEIJI:** Seiji Omi, TV Asahi junior sports commentator, also reporting live from the 2010 Courchevel Cup. How’re you doing, Mayumi-chan? 

**OGATA:** Just fine, thank you. It’s definitely warmer than I expected! I’m here in the broadcasting booth. Canada’s Andrei Rogozine is coming off the ice now, and we’re watching as they prep the ice for the final skater for the men’s single’s free skate. 

**SEIJI:** Yep! Just look at those zambonis go. They’re also clearing the ice of whatever flowers Rogozine’s fans have thrown for him — quite a lot there, he’s definitely a popular skater, isn’t he? 

**OGATA:** He certainly is. But I can safely say that _I’ve_ been waiting for the next skater for quite some time. 

**SEIJI:** Ah, yes. Katsuki Yuuri — Japan’s budding ace. Can’t quite call him an _ace_ just yet, but I’m certainly eager to see what he has is store for us today. 

**OGATA:** Well, I’m excited to see how Katsuki-kun’s free skate has evolved since the Junior Japanese National Tournament. We saw just yesterday how far his short program — _Liebesleid_ — has come since then. It’s truly stunning. 

**SEIJI:** Katsuki-kun’s artistry really shines in that program, I agree. But, if I’m remembering correctly, his free skate is set to an orchestration of _Liebesleid_ ’s companion piece, _Liebesfreud_ , right? I have to say, it really wasn’t a choice I was expecting. 

**OGATA:** I think they work well together, though. I do enjoy how Katsuki-kun chose to have his more fast paced piece be his free skate, as opposed to his short program. I just hope I don’t get dizzy watching him spin, this time! 

**SEIJI:** [LAUGHS.] I have a feeling that’s going to be a problem for you for a little while longer, Mayumi-chan. 

**OGATA:** Why, you —!

**SEIJI:** [CLEARS THROAT.] Well, it looks like they’ve finished clearing the ice. Katsuki-kun is taking to the ice. 

**OGATA:** Ah, here he goes — final skate of his first competition in the 2010 Junior Grand Prix Series. 

**SEIJI:** Looking good so far, Mayumi-chan. Katsuki skates his first combo cleanly — a double toe loop into a triple toe loop. And he sticks the landing! 

**OGATA:** And _straight_ into that Ina Baur. God, how he manages to get that arch without breaking his back, I’ll never know. 

**SEIJI:** There’s that step sequence Katsuki-kun is so well known for! His PCS is going to be as high as ever, I can tell you that, Mayumi-chan. 

**OGATA:** Now, let’s see if his technical score matches up, Omi-kun. Oh no! Katsuki-kun touches down on his triple flip! That’s going to cost him...but he lands his triple axel cleanly! [CLAPS.]

**SEIJI:** The triple axel is Katsuki-kun’s signature jump, right? 

**OGATA:** It certainly is, Omi-kun. We’ll definitely be seeing it again — Katsuki-kun has a tendency to load the majority of his triple axels in the later half of his programs. 

**SEIJI:** [NERVOUS CHUCKLE.] That’s gotta take _some_ stamina, huh. Man, I’m sweating just thinking about it. Oh — what a beautiful twizzle, and straight into that gorgeous sit spin! 

**OGATA:** [GULPS.] Oh no, I’m definitely getting dizzy again. 

**SEIJI:** Keep your eyes on the ice, Mayumi-chan. Katsuki-kun sticks his double loop, into his signature triple axel! Man, how is this kid not exhausted already? 

**OGATA:** Who knows. I certainly wish I had his stamina, Omi-kun. Ah — we’re coming up on Katsuki’s final step sequence. Look at that extension! And he’s certainly got quick feet. 

**SEIJI:** Final jump — oh, and he wobbles on that axel landing! But he skates it off, moving into his final Ina Baur, and — what a beautiful skate, from Japan’s very own Katsuki Yuuri! 

**OGATA:** Katsuki-kun certainly has come a long way since the Junior Japanese Nationals. He’s off to the kiss and cry, now. Judges are tallying his score as we speak. 

**SEIJI:** I have to say, Mayumi-chan, if Katsuki-kun doesn’t get on the podium after both today and yesterday’s performances, I’ll be shocked. [LAUGHTER.] I might even be offended! 

**OGATA:** Well, I can certainly say that his technical score took a bit of a hit — you have to wonder why. Katsuki-kun is known for having his more complex jumps in the latter half of his programs, but it’s rare that he touches down on his triple axels. 

**SEIJI:** I think it’s safe to say that his PCS will more than make up the difference, though. 

**OGATA** [HUMS.] Well, we’ll see — oh! They’re announcing the scores! 

**SEIJI:** And Katsuki-kun maintains his place at first! He’s won gold! 

**OGATA:** [CHEERING.] 

**SEIJI:** Mayumi-chan? Mayumi-chan? [CLEARS THROAT.] Sorry, looks like we’re having a bit of a connection issue. Well, that’s all from us here at the 2010 Courchevel Cup. Back to you, Taiga-senpai. [MUFFLED, INDISTINCT CHATTER.] 

**TRANSCRIPT ENDS.**

* * *

**wittynamehere:**

its been like three months since the olympics ended but i still cant believe evegeni plushenko was fucked over by the judges so badly that they somehow scored him lower than someone who couldn’t even skate quads bc he fucked up his ankle during the season and a 17 year old kid who was literally only brought to the olympics as a fcuking alternate...i smell a conspiracy lol

> **rattle-them-walls:**
> 
> wow so theres this thing called a PCS and its pretty much just as important as a technical component score so haha maybe its not a conspiracy??maybe katsuki and lysacek just arent jump bots like plushenko???haha crazy right????

**wittynamehere:**

anyone can do a pretty twirl with their hands okay???the real skill in figure skating is in the jumps

> **sebastiansbabyy:**
> 
> Why is it a dance sport then

* * *

Yuuko had given Yuuri a key to the Ice Palace a year ago. She had pressed the small key into the palm of his hand, insistent, and Yuuri had stared at the small, chrome key, even though it felt as if his hands burnt just from holding it. 

He’s grateful for that key now, even though Yuuri is scared he might drop it into the pile of snow just outside of the Ice Palace’s wide, glass doors. The weak light from distant street lamps do nothing for Yuuri’s sight — the keyhole remains frustratingly hidden, and not for the first time in the five freezing minutes Yuuri has spent, fumbling with this key, Yuuri wonders if he grabbed the right glasses on his madcap dash out of the onsen. 

The key finally slips into the lock, and Yuuri sighs, pushing open the glass doors, rubbing his hands over his arms as he tries to warm up a little before heading toward the ice. All the warmth in the world will mean nothing as soon as Yuuri takes to the ice — the cold will nip and bite, but Yuuri knows well enough how overheated he’ll get before his impromptu ice time ends. 

He runs over to the soundbooth by the skate rentals. Yuuri’s own skates are slung over his shoulders, blade guards clicking against one another as he hustles toward the booth. Sure enough, Yuuko had left an aux cable hooked up for Yuuri. They’re both familiar with Yuuri’s late-night habits, and thankfully, Yuuko had planned ahead. 

It takes Yuuri a few more minutes to hook his secondhand iPod to the aux cord. The soundbooth is still poorly lit — neither Yuuri nor Takeshi have gotten around to helping Yuuko replace the broken bulb, and Yuuri’s becoming more and more certain that he’s grabbed an old pair of glasses. He gets there eventually. 

By the time Yuuri gets to the ice, _Song of the Ancients_ is already playing, opening drum beats echoing like gunfire through the empty ice rink. Yuuri had wanted to use the routine he and Minako-sensei had choreographed to _Song of the Ancients_ for his final Juniors season, but the ISU still had restrictions on lyrical pieces. It had been delegated to an exhibition piece for the season, but a part of Yuuri wishes, fruitlessly, that he could’ve finished Juniors with this piece. 

Yuuri spins through the final step sequence, racing across the ice to the sound of hundreds of unseen voices and the beat of drums, tucking into a dizzying sit spin, and out into a twizzle. The sound of drums and voices fades away, and Yuuri is, as always, alone. The lights flicker above him, and Yuuri’s breath leaves him in small clouds, vanishing the moment the light touches them. 

The rink is empty. Yuuri is alone.

* * *

**TRANSCRIPT FROM TV ASAHI’S BROADCAST OF THE 2010 JPG SBC CUP.  
SEPT. 24, 2010, 12:32**

**OGATA:** And we’re back from our commercial break! This is Ogata Mayumi, senior sports correspondent, reporting live from the 2010 SBC Cup, here in Karuizawa. I have to say, it’s good to be back in Japan! 

**SEIJI:** [GROANS DRAMATICALLY.] My back sure isn’t thanking me after that last flight, Mayumi-chan. Austria to Japan is one hell of a flight. 

**OGATA:** Don’t be a baby, Omi-kun. Anyways, we’ve just seen another masterful performance from Canada’s Andrei Rogozine. He’s definitely come a long way since we last saw him in Courchevel. 

**SEIJI:** Yeah, he definitely has. And judging by yesterday’s short program, so has Katsuki-kun. It’s definitely going to be a tight competition. Who stands at the top of today’s podium is anyone’s guess. 

**OGATA:** Here’s hoping it’s Katsuki-kun! We had a victory for Japan yesterday too, with Shoji Risa-chan, in the ladies’ division. I hope we see similar success for Katsuki-kun today, with his program. 

**SEIJI:** Ah — the zambonis are coming off the ice. Katsuki-kun is at the gate — wow, he skates without contacts, huh? 

**OGATA:** Huh. You’re right, Omi-kun! He’s just handed his glasses off to his coach, Sado Haruki. Wow. A bit impressive, that. Though I’m sure it’s mostly muscle memory that carries him through, anyways. 

**SEIJI:** I’ll bet. Oh — there are the opening chords! And he’s off, skating straight into that quick first step sequence. One thing’s for sure, it’s hard to find a fault in Katsuki-kun’s step sequences. 

**OGATA:** I’d wager that has something to do with Okukawa-san, Katsuki-kun’s ballet teacher. But he lands that double top loop with ease, and moves into his triple toe loop — and he lands it! An excellent first combo for Katsuki-kun. 

**SEIJI:** And there’s that back-breaking Ina Baur of his. Oh, wow! And he drops from that into a hydroplane! That’s definitely new — last we saw it, that hydroplane was a lunge into a rising sit spin, wasn’t it? 

**OGATA:** Yeah, you’re definitely right. Wow. I think my heart just leapt into my throat! [NERVOUS LAUGHTER.] I thought he was going to cut his hand for a second there, not going to lie. 

**SEIJI:** I don’t think you’re the only one, Mayumi-chan. And he lands the triple flip cleanly! He wasn’t able to do that last time — good to see that it’s not only Katsuki-kun’s performance elements improving. 

**OGATA:** He’s moving steadily into the ending of his program. Ah, a touchdown on the loop! But the triple axel is clean! And God, that extension is as gorgeous as always. 

**SEIJI:** Careful there, Mayumi-chan. We’re still on national television. 

**OGATA:** What? Oh my — shut _up_ , Omi-kun!

**SEIJI:** [MUFFLED LAUGHTER.] 

**OGATA:** Unbelievable. Anyways, Katsuki-kun lands his final triple axel — and it’s clean! It’s the closest Katsuki-kun has come to a clean program all season! 

**SEIJI:** And not a single fall, too. How many touchdowns? 

**OGATA:** [PAPERS RUSTLING.] Around two, I believe. Impressive, considering the amount of combos Katsuki-kun packed into the latter half of _Liebesfreud._

**SEIJI:** Yeah, you don’t say. Wow! That’s a lot of plush dogs being thrown onto the ice, there. 

**OGATA:** Katsuki-kun’s fans are well known for that. I believe it’s because he has a toy poodle, back at home. I’m sure Katsuki-kun is glad that his parents were able to make it out to Karuizawa to see him perform. 

**SEIJI:** I’ll say. Little far from his hometown, huh? 

**OGATA:** Well, I’m sure they’re glad they get to see him skate. The JPG Finals are all the way in Beijing this year, after all. 

**SEIJI:** Oof. Well, at least that flight should be easier on my back than Austria…

**OGATA:** Don’t get _too_ excited, Omi-kun. There are still three more events in the JPG Qualifiers — and England is the next one. 

**SEIJI:** [GROANS.] Well, Katsuki-kun’s exited the ice, and is heading to the kiss and cry. Judges are currently tallying the scores, and they should be announced soon. 

**OGATA:** I’m sure he’s nervous. But if Katsuki-kun manages to get on the podium, he’ll be advancing to the Junior Grand Prix Finals, in Beijing, China. 

**SEIJI:** Looks like the judges have his score — and Katsuki-kun takes first place! 

**OGATA:** And Katsuki-kun advances to the Junior Grand Prix Finals! [DISTANT CHEERING.] Next time we see him, it’ll be in Beijing! 

**SEIJI:** I’m excited to see how his program changes from now until then. I’m Seiji Omi, live at the SBC Cup in Karuizawa. That’s all from us for today! Back to you, Taiga-senpai. 

**TRANSCRIPT ENDS.**

* * *

r/figureskating | Posted by u/suckitreggie on March 14th, 2010

**Can someone explain the whole “quad controversy” thing that keeps popping up in figure skating news?**

Seriously guys I’m really confused, all I know is that it has something to do with the men’s figure skating placings in the 2010 Olympics? Why is this such a big deal? 

**6.7k comments | share | save | hide | report | 84% upvoted**

> hybridvenice 64 points | March 14th, 2010
> 
> Oh! Oh! Pick me! ...Just kidding. OK so the “quad controversy” is basically something that popped up after Evan Lysacek won an Olympic gold without any quads in his program — he and his coach had announced earlier in the season that since he’d sprained his ankle (i think it was his ankle, i don’t remember sorry) and they were downgrading his quads to triples as a result. Not to mention, Plushenko _also_ lost silver to Yuuri Katsuki, a 17 year old skater from Japan, who was only there as an alternate. Katsuki did have _one_ quad in his program, a 4T, but it wasn’t the 4T/3T combo Plushenko landed in both his FS and short program. 
> 
> Things really only got worse after Plushenko basically said that he felt he was robbed of the win he deserved? The full quote is here, I’m just too lazy to pull the full thing from the article. And Russia backed him up. We still don’t know everything — there are allegations being thrown around about conspiracy, whatever, but the big TLDR; is basically Plushenko lost to Lysacek, who didn’t have any quads, and Katsuki, who only had one quad, and the entire figure skating community exploded as a result.

* * *

Yuuri finally starts putting his life into boxes a week before he’s supposed to leave for Detroit. It is, in no small feat, quite possibly the worst decision of Yuuri’s life. 

“How did I end up with this much _stuff_ after only eighteen years?” Yuuri asks, sitting in the center of what was probably once his childhood bedroom. It looks more like a crime scene now, what with the crushed box of bandaids lying on the floor, and the six thousand articles of clothing strewn every which way. 

Yuuko, who is seated calmly in the eye of this particular hurricane, finishes folding one of the six thousand oversized hoodies Yuuri is bringing with him to Detroit, and levels him with a Look. The closer Yuuko gets to having the twins, the more formidable the Look gets. 

“That one almost felt like my mom’s,” Yuuri tells her, and leans back to snag a pair of jeans off his bed. “...I’m not bringing these.” Yuuri remembers these jeans — skin tight and covered with “artful paint splatters,” Yuuko had forced him into them sometime last year, before she and Takeshi had strong armed him onto a shinkansen and spirited him away to Tokyo for a weekend after the term ended. 

The less Yuuri remembers about that weekend in Tokyo, the better. 

Yuuko pouts, reaching over to snatch the jeans out of Yuuri’s hands. She lays them on her lap and starts folding, studiously ignoring every single one of Yuuri’s spluttered protests. “They’re going to Detroit with you,” Yuuko declares, and pushes herself up off the floor, toddling over to the cardboard box labelled **CLOTHES** , and putting the damn things under a stack of neatly folded sweatpants. “You’re going to college. Not a nunnery. Have some _fun_.” 

“I’m going to Detroit to _skate_ ,” Yuuri reminds her. He plucks a striped sweater off the floor and starts to fold it, rolling the shirt to make it fit in his suitcase. “Not to go clubbing, and like...drink too much. Whatever.” 

Yuuko rolls her eyes and throws a pair of socks at Yuuri in protest. “Bah,” she grumbles, and sits back down, already reaching around Yuuri to grab what looks to be a pair of athletic leggings. “You’ve gotta live sometime, Yuuri. You might as well have _fun_ in America, instead of wasting away either behind your desk or at the rink.” She holds up a hand, cutting off whatever feeble protest Yuuri had mustered up. “And _yes_ , Yuuri. I know you don’t see skating as a chore, or like, a waste of time, but you _need_ to do something other than that and studying.” Yuuko holds the folded leggings up. 

“Suitcase,” Yuuri decides, and takes them from her so he can put both the sweater and the leggings into his open suitcase. “I mean, I just —”

“Don’t argue with me on this,” Yuuko says, and she pulls Yuuri down, hands warm around his, until they’re seated, knees brushing against one another, on the floor. “Look. You are the best skater I know. Don’t interrupt me, we both know Viktor has _years_ on you, but you’ll catch up to him soon, Yuuri. I promise. But look, Viktor Nikiforov aside, this is what you’ve been working toward for years.” They both know she isn’t referring to Detroit alone. It’s more than Detroit, and no one knows it better than Yuuko. Maybe Minako-sensei, but Yuuri knows that his decision to skate, rather than dance, still stings Minako-sensei some days. 

“You’re just starting, Yuuri.” Yuuko’s eyes are burning into his. “You have so much further to go — you have bigger stars to surpass, bigger things to achieve.” She pulls their linked hands to her baby bump, where the triplets are sleeping, biding their time to join the world. “I know I’m never going to really regret choosing to keep my kids. But I rushed into it, rushed into _this_. You need to take a lesson from me, okay? I made a mistake I recovered from easily, but Yuuri, you — you need to take it slow. Don’t burn yourself out early, okay?” Yuuko leans forward as best she can, but Yuuri meets her more than halfway, all too aware of her bump between them. Their foreheads bump against one another, and for a moment, Yuuri is seven, eight, nine, all over again, shaking with nerves for his first performance in front of the students at the Ice Palace. 

“You’re going to be _amazing_ ,” Yuuko says, and her voice is so, so soft. “You’ll be the best of all of us. You were always going to be. You just have to stay alive long enough to get there.” She pulls away from Yuuri and unlaces their hands to thrust her pinky in his face. “Promise me, Yuuri. You’ll take care of yourself, all the way out there?” 

Yuuri links his pinky with hers, and cannot ignore the gaping pit of guilt at the bottom of his stomach. This is what he does — Yuuko is months away from giving birth to her triplets, her children with Takeshi, but instead of painting a nursery, or getting some much needed rest, Yuuko is here, with Yuuri, sitting in the center of the disaster Yuuri has made of his room, among other things, helping Yuuri pack for the biggest move of his life, a week before he’s meant to leave. “I promise,” Yuuri lies. 

“Good,” Yuuko says, and the places her gaze touches burn. “I’m holding you to that promise, Yuuri. You got that?” 

“Yeah,” Yuuri replies, leaning backwards to pick up a shirt that is more hole than fabric at this point. “...I’m throwing this one away.” 

Yuuko wrinkles her nose at it and nods. “You’d better,” she agrees. “People could see your nipples if you wore that.”

* * *

**TRANSCRIPT FROM TV ASAHI’S BROADCAST OF THE 2010 JUNIOR GRAND PRIX FINAL.  
DEC. 11TH, 2010, 14:39.**

**OGATA:** We’re back from commercial break! I’m Ogata Mayumi, senior sports correspondent, reporting live from the 2010 Junior Grand Prix Final, here in Beijing. We’re on our last day of the four day competition, wrapping up the Junior division with the men’s singles. Omi-kun, thoughts?

**SEIJI:** [PAUSE.] Seiji Omi here, junior sports commentator, rinkside at the 2010 Beijing Junior Grand Prix Final. Well, I’ve got to say, I know everyone back at home is excited to see the Senior division compete — we’ve had an especially strong showing of Japanese skaters this past season. Notably, Kozuka Takahiko and Takahashi Daisuke — both managing to qualify for the Final with a total of 30 points — but — 

**OGATA:** Sorry to interrupt, Omi-kun, but if I’m remembering correctly, Takahashi-kun represented Japan at the Olympics this past year, along with Katsuki-kun, right? 

**SEIJI:** He did! Takahashi-kun was _just_ edged off the podium by Russia’s Evengi Plushenko. But he, Katsuki-kun, and fellow Senior skater, Oda Nobunari, all skated together at the Vancouver Olympics. [LAUGHS.] Maybe we’ll see a friendly reunion, huh? 

**OGATA:** I sure hope so! 

**SEIJI:** Anyways — I’m certainly excited to see Takahashi-kun and Oda-kun take to the ice tomorrow, but I’ve got my eye on Katsuki-kun, here in the Junior’s division. [PAUSE.] Actually, while we’re on the topic, you have to wonder why Katsuki-kun chose to compete in Juniors again. I doubt you’d hear many people arguing that he’s not ready for Seniors, especially after that stellar showing at the Vancouver Olympics. 

**OGATA:** [PAPERS RUSTLING.] Sado-sensei made a statement with Katsuki-kun at a press conference at the beginning of this competitive season, actually...it reads, and I quote, “I [KATSUKI] am aware that I was given the immense honor of competing at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics. However, in response to questions as to whether or not I will be moving up to the Senior division, I apologize, but the answer is no. There is still much I have to learn, as both a skater and a person, and I intend to, and have always intended to, see my final season as a Junior competitor to fruition. Thank you for your well wishes and consideration.” 

**SEIJI:** Heavy words from a seventeen year old. Yeesh. But I guess that’s our answer. Serious kid, isn’t he? 

**OGATA:** Don’t be rude, Omi-kun. Anyways, we’re waiting for them to finish clearing the ice, so Katsuki-kun can perform what may be his final run of _Liebesfreud_ this season. 

**SEIJI:** You don’t think he’ll go on to compete at Four Continents and Junior Worlds, Mayumi-chan? 

**OGATA:** It’s hard to tell. The JSF released a statement on Katsuki-kun’s behalf earlier this week — any and all details about Katsuki-kun’s participation in the remaining events for the season are going to be discussed during a press conference at the end of the Grand Prix Finals. 

**SEIJI:** I was talking about official releases _aside_ , Mayumi-chan. 

**OGATA:** [COUGHS.] Oh. Well, I mean, I really _hope_ Katsuki-kun goes on and competes in 4C and Junior Worlds. I’d like to see how his routines evolve throughout the rest of the season…

**SEIJI:** I mean, there’s always the chance he pulls a Nikiforov and switches up his routines mid-season...I doubt any of us were prepared for that mid-season heart attack last year. 

**OGATA:** God. Please, don’t remind me, Omi-kun. I think the entire figure skating community exploded last year — I mean, who has the _time_ to practice and perfect four whole routines? [RUSTLING.] Geniuses, I swear. Nikiforov particularly — God knows that man’s mind must be made of steel. 

**SEIJI:** Or he’s like, the world’s biggest airhead. 

**OGATA:** Better watch what you say, Omi-kun! I’d hate to have to watch you get mobbed by a bunch of Nikiforov fans after this broadcast. Oh — the rink is clear! Katsuki-kun is about to take to the ice. 

**SEIJI:** [NERVOUS LAUGHTER.] Wait, you’re kidding, right, Mayumi-chan? M-Mayumi-chan? 

**OGATA:** Who knows? Anyways, Katsuki-kun has just stepped onto the ice. We certainly saw how far _Liebeslied_ came yesterday. 

**SEIJI:** [UNINTELLIGIBLE MUTTERING.] Huh? Oh — yeah, you’re right, we really did. Katsuki-kun’s always had an eye for artistry, but his technical elements more than met his performance ones this time around. It’s astounding how fast he’s growing. 

**OGATA:** Well, hopefully this’ll stop people from saying he doesn’t deserve that silver he took home earlier this year. 

**SEIJI:** I hope so too...it’s a shame that the Olympics keep getting brought up in that context...I mean, he took home a silver. Shouldn’t that have been enough? 

**OGATA:** [SIGHS] This really isn’t the time or the place for this conversation, Omi-kun. Besides, Katsuki-kun’s skating to the center of the rink now. And he’s off! Straight into that step sequence. _Oof_ , it is just me, or has it gotten even faster? 

**SEIJI:** No, you’re definitely right, Mayumi-chan. Seeing it rinkside is enough to make you dizzy. Damn! A clean transition into his first step sequence...and it’s into his first jump combo...and he sticks the landing on that combo! 

**OGATA:** Gorgeous extension with the arms...but let’s see how he fares with the quad-triple toe loop combo he has next… 

**SEIJI:** He sticks the landing too! A bit of a wobble on the triple, but otherwise, no touchdown. And there’s that — oof — that back breaking Ina Baur again. Oh my god, did he just go into a full backbend? Crazy, I could’ve sworn that his fingers touched the ice. 

**OGATA:** I can practically hear your back cracking in sympathy, Omi-kun. 

**SEIJI:** Yeah, and I think my spine shattered with it. Jeez, this kid is flexible. We’ll have to play the footage back later, I’m really interested to see whether or not I was just seeing things… 

**OGATA:** If you haven’t gone crazy yet, Omi-kun, I don’t think it’s going to happen any time soon. The triple flip lands cleanly and — oh! That’s a new performance element. I believe that’s the Y-spin variation Korean skater Kim Yuna is well known for! 

**SEIJI:** You know, we definitely saw a lot of pictures with Katsuki-kun and Kim Yuna together at the 2010 Olympics...I guess they must’ve gotten close during that time, considering that Katsuki-kun’s just gone and performed one of her signature moves. 

**OGATA:** I guess so. And he moves into that triple loop — no touchdown this time! Katsuki-kun may be looking at his first completely clean skate of the season! And at the Grand Prix, no less! His triple axel is as clean as always. 

**SEIJI:** I’ve heard people calling it his signature move — kind of feels like a disservice to Katsuki’s back breaking Ina Bauers, really. Speaking of, he’s just gone into another one! Ouch. 

**OGATA:** You and his Ina Bauers, Omi-kun, I swear. But I have to agree. Katsuki-kun’s performance components are always impeccably beautiful. It’s a shame that they’re only focussing on his jumps. But, speaking of jumps, Katsuki-kun has just landed his final triple axel — and it’s clean! It’s clean! He’s finally skated a clean program! 

**SEIJI:** Wow! And what a program it was! He’s back in the center of his ice — oof, he’s just dropped to his knees, I hope Katsuki-kun is alright. 

**OGATA:** The plush dogs return! Aw, he’s gone and picked one up, how cute. Rinkside, we can see his coach, Sado Haruki, waiting for him by the gates so they can go and wait at the kiss and cry. Katsuki-kun is the last skate of the day too, so we’re about to see whether or not he’s maintained his place at the top of the board, and whether or not Katsuki-kun’s taken home gold. 

**SEIJI:** I hope he does, honestly. After _that_ performance? Jeez, it’d be hard to believe that the judges’ would give him anything less than gold. Oh — Sado-sensei is leading Katsuki-kun to the kiss and cry, and the dogs are getting collected off the ice. 

**OGATA:** [NERVOUS LAUGH.] I think I might actually be more nervous for Katsuki-kun’s scores than Katsuki-kun. 

**SEIJI:** Honestly, Mayumi-chan, I kind of doubt that. From here, I can see Katsuki-kun literally shaking. I think Sado-sensei is holding onto his shoulders, trying to stop the poor kid from literally vibrating off the benches. 

**OGATA:** Oh, poor Katsuki-kun — _oh my God!_

**SEIJI:** Holy — he’s done it! Katsuki Yuuri takes gold at the Junior Grand Prix Finals for Japan! 

**OGATA:** [MUFFLED CHEERING.] He did it! Katsuki-kun has won gold at the Junior Grand Prix Finals! Well deserved, especially after that _gorgeous_ program! 

**SEIJI:** Oh — he’s crying. It looks like Sado-sensei is attempting to clean his student up before they have to send Katsuki-kun out onto the ice for the medal ceremony. 

**OGATA:** I can’t _wait_ to see what he’s got in store for us for the exhibition gala! Anyways, this is Ogata Mayumi, senior sports correspondent at the 2010 Junior Grand Prix Finals at Beijing. We’ll see you back here for the medal ceremony in a bit. In the meantime, Taiga-kun, back to you. 

* * *

**katsuki yuuri fans EN >> mod announcements  
**tsukiyuu** wrote: **

** **2010 BEIJING JGPF RESULTS!** **

Hi Yuuri fans!! As we all know, it’s Yuuri’s last season in Juniors, which is really sad, but also really exciting, as he’ll (hopefully) be representing Japan in the Senior Grand Prix Series for the 2011-2012 season! The results for the Junior Men’s GPF have been out for a day now, as I’m sure a lot of you know, since we held a streaming party for the Beijing JGPF yesterday and on the ninth, but you can find recordings of Yuuri’s programs here and here. (Big thank you to anosaanosa on youtube for uploading them!) For those of you who weren’t able to make it to the livestreams and/or haven’t seen the final scores, I’ve listed them below for you. 

****FIRST PLACE:** Yuuri Katsuki, Japan, 231.18  
**SECOND PLACE:** Richard Dornbush, USA, 219.56  
**THIRD PLACE:** Han Yan, CN, 186.05 **

Notably, Yuuri managed to skate a completely clean free skate — his first so far this season. While his SP wasn’t clean, it was still enough to land him in first after the first portion of the Junior Men’s competition, and obviously, he maintained his lead against USA’s Richard Dornbush. We’re really proud of him! 

I know a lot of people were wondering about the press conference that took place after the medal ceremony, and we weren’t really able to get a livestream of that, since it was closed to everyone but the press, Mod Jill (jillybean) translated what she could from the TV Asahi broadcast. It’s right here on her LJ if you want to check it out. (Thanks, Jill!) For a quick TLDR; Yuuri basically announced that he and his coach, Haruki Sado, will be parting ways after this season, as Yuuri will be moving to America to continue his training there. Shortly after Coach Celestino Cialdini confirmed that Yuuri will be moving to his home rink in Detroit. Yuuri apparently has no idea regarding when he will return to Japan, and told the press that he will be attending university while in America. We’re wishing him the best of luck in America! English is hard, but we all know Yuuri will ace it. 

Finally, the JSF has announced (as of yesterday) that Yuuri will be representing Japan in the 2011 Junior Worlds at Gangneung, alongside fellow skaters Ryuichi Kihara and Keiji Tanaka. The JSF’s official roster for the 2011 Junior Worlds is currently up on their website, but Mod Jill has a post on that here, as well as the JSF’s most recent statement about their plans for the 2011 Worlds being held in Tokyo later next year. (Thank you again, Jill!! You feed most of us. Me, mainly.) 

Today’s livestream of the exhibition gala will be held right here. Either Jill or I will be posting an announcement here before we start. According to Yuuri’s coach, the exhibition piece he’ll be skating is something we’ve never seen before! I know I was really hoping to see Oriental Winds again, but I’m also really excited to see what Yuuri has in store this time!! 

It’s been an awesome season for Yuuri so far! A silver at the Olympics, and now a gold at the JGPF! Let’s continue to cheer him on as he moves toward the next event of his season - Four Continents!! Yuuri will be representing Japan in the Men’s category alongside Daisuke Takahashi and Takahiko Kozuka. We’re wishing him the best of luck!! 

Quick post-script: Mod Jill and I are collaborating with the leader of Yuuri’s Japanese fanclub, Riko (ruriko3429 on Twitter, as she doesn’t have an LJ), to send a bunch of fanmail and gifts to Yuuri, since he’ll be in Japan for the time being, it’ll be the last time for a while, since he’s heading off to the US after Worlds. If you have something you’d like to send, PM either me or Jill with your well wishes. If it’s something physical, let us know so we can try and arrange something with Riko, since international shipping takes for-ev-er. 

**12 comments…**

* * *

**Katsuki Yuuri 2010 Beijing JGPF Exhibition Skate [Song of the Ancients/Fate]**  
14,230 views | Dec 12, 2010 | 347 likes | 15 dislikes | share | save | …  
anosaanosa  
207 subscribers 

**SHOW MORE**

* * *

Four days before he’s meant to get on a plane that will first stop at Los Angeles, California and then, after a day, continue on to Detroit, Michigan, Yuuri plays ghost in the onsen kitchen, hovering just behind his mother as she cuts leeks for one of the dishes the locals ordered. Old Matsuwa-san and her husband are still living in the onsen — after the quake had destroyed the Matsuwa’s house, just off the coast, as it had so many others, the onsen had become a temporary shelter. 

_We have the beds_ , Mom had said, eyes crinkling as she smiled, even though Yuuri and Mari, who were eavesdropping behind the shoji screens, could hear the threat in her voice. She had looked at the public official who had travelled hours from Tokyo to rundown, backwater Hasetsu, and insisted that Hasetsu needed the money to rebuild, that they _did_ need help, but that they were more than capable of housing displaced citizens in the onsen until homes were rebuilt and people found new places to stay. 

_It’ll be a team effort_ , she told Yuuri and Mari afterwards, beckoning them out from behind the paper-thin shoji screens and into the main banquet room. _You two, me, your father, even Minako and the Nishigoris, it’ll be all of us working together on this._

She had said that, and Yuuri had promised to do his best to help, and now, not even a full two months later, Yuuri was leaving for America. He had initially wandered into the kitchens to help with dinner preparations, but Mom had turned to him, knife in one hand and a bunch of leeks in the other, and simply said, “sit, Yuuri. You’ll run yourself ragged enough in a few days.” 

So it was just Yuuri and Mom, in the onsen kitchen, as Mom chopped leeks and occasionally stirred what looked like a pot of okayu. Yuuri craned his head from where he was sitting on an empty produce crate. “Is that for Matsuwa-san?” Yuuri asks. 

Mom hums. “Her stomach isn’t what it used to be,” she replies, giving the pot another stir. “Here,” she holds the spoon up to Yuuri’s mouth, cupping one hand below it and blowing on it, just like she used to when Yuuri was a child. “Give it a taste.” 

Yuuri manages not to gag as the okayu burns his tongue. “Needs more ginger,” is all he says afterwards. “I think Matsuwa-san can handle a bit more ginger.” 

Mom takes another spoonful — for herself, this time — and nods, swallowing. “You’re right. Grab me the ginger from the fridge? It should be right by the garlic you and Mari minced last night.” 

Yuuri closes the fridge with a hip check as he hands Mom the small jar of ginger. “Do you want me to take the food out?” He’s desperate for something, _anything_ to do. Anything but sit in the bare bones of his childhood bedroom, or out in the April chill with Mari, as she attempts to master more smoke tricks behind the onsen changing rooms. The former is too depressing, and the latter reminds Yuuri too much of middle school, and of Mari getting caught by Mom and Dad on a particularly muggy August night. 

Mom pins him with a look. As usual, she can see straight through Yuuri, as if he’s paper thin and waving with the wind. “If you wouldn’t mind,” Mom says, voice mild. “Get me a bowl, would you?” She gestures to the cabinet above the hob, and smiles, gently. Yuuri’s certain that if her hands weren’t full, she would pat him on the cheek gently, as she had every time Yuuri left the house for school the past twelve years. 

Yuuri reaches up and grabs her a bowl. He watches as Mom ladles okayu into it, and lets her chivvy him toward the teapot sitting in a cozy by the hot water boiler. Yuuri pours two cups of sencha for the Matsuwas as Mom putters around the kitchen, pulling together a bowl of rice and grilled mackerel for Matsuwa-san’s husband. By the time Yuuri is done pouring the tea, Mom has a serving tray ready, waiting for Yuuri on an empty counter. He picks it up with an ease that speaks to years helping out around the onsen and hurries out of the kitchen, toward the main banquet hall, where Matsuwa-san is ignoring Dad and her husband cheering on a baseball rerun airing on the TV. 

“I have dinner,” Yuuri announces, voice pitched low so as not to talk over the announcer yelling about whatever pitch just led to a home run. Dad and Matsuwa-san’s husband jump up, cheering again, and Yuuri watches helplessly with Matsuwa-san, who looks more exasperatedly amused than confused. 

“You can just set it down on the table,” Matsuwa-san says, smiling as if this is a secret between her and Yuuri. “They’ve been at this for a while. They will be for a while longer.” She says it with the knowledge of someone who’s been married for a very long time, but the look in her eyes screams ‘I am going to eat my husband’s mackerel while he’s too busy cheering over baseball with your father.’ 

“Matsuwa-san,” Yuuri murmurs, sliding the dishes off the serving tray, “please don’t eat Matsuwa-san’s mackerel.” 

Matsuwa-san clicks her tongue. “Oh, bah,” she says, wrinkling her nose, “you and Hiroko-chan are the same, Yuuri-chan. Both of you, such worrywarts.” 

Yuuri attempts to channel his mother’s Look, the one she breaks out when he and Mari are brawling over something stupid, like Yuuri accidentally spilling Mari’s nail polish over one of her magazines, and fails miserably. Intimidation goes to die on Katsuki Yuuri’s face. “Matsuwa-san,” Yuuri says, weakly, “please, for my own health, stick to the okayu my mom made for you.” 

Matsuwa-san sniffs, peering down her nose at the bowl of okayu Yuuri set in front of her. “Lots of ginger in there?” she asks. “You know that Edogawa-kun down by the pier always forgets to add my extra ginger.” 

“Extra ginger,” Yuuri confirms, holding the serving tray to his chest. “I made sure to remind my mom.” <

“Good boy,” Matsuwa-san says, and pats him on the cheek before she picks up her spoon. “Go on now, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than hover over me. Go on, go on. I won’t eat the mackerel.” She shoos him away in a manner not too dissimilar to the way Mom shoos Vicchan away from the kitchen when she’s cooking dinner, and Yuuri has no choice but to go, fleeing back into the kitchen to drop the serving tray off. 

Mom waves him off too, as soon as he pokes his head beyond the curtain, and Yuuri retreats, banished from both the main room and the kitchen, to the back porch. Somewhere along the way, Vicchan joins him, the tiny bell on his collar jingling cheerfully as he bounds along behind Yuuri. 

Yuuri lets Vicchan curl up in his lap, lets the small poodle turn circles atop his thighs until he settles, smacking his lips together. 

“Comfortable?” Yuuri coos, petting Vicchan as he watches the sun set through the evening fog. Vicchan, being a dog, doesn’t really answer, but Yuuri likes to think that he is, given the way that he snuffles quietly before pushing his nose into the palm of Yuuri’s hand, silently begging for even more pets in the way that only a tiny, spoiled dog can. 

Selfishly, Yuuri thinks that this might be what he misses the most. Not Mom, not Dad, not Mari, Yuuko, or Minako-sensei, but Vicchan, and sunsets spent on the back porch, petting Vicchan until he falls asleep in Yuuri’s lap. Yuuri has spent so little time with his dog — it had been one of the many things Yuuri had begged his parents for over the years: dance lessons and then figure skating lessons, and then a small dog just like Viktor Nikiforov’s — Vicchan had probably been the most selfish thing Yuuri had asked for. He had spent what felt like years (but was really just a handful of months) begging his parents for a dog, only to leave Vicchan behind to fly far beyond Japan’s borders, to skate in competitions overseas, and leave Vicchan, lonely in the onsen, to curl up on Yuuri’s cold bed and wait until Yuuri finally came home again. 

And Yuuri would be doing that all over again, in only four days time. Except, instead of it only being a scant week or two before Yuuri would return home, it would be years — four, at a minimum, but likely more, going by what Celestino had been telling Yuuri over their rather one-sided phone calls. 

“I’m sorry, Vicchan,” Yuuri whispers, voice hushed as if telling his dog some terrible secret, “I keep leaving you behind.” 

Vicchan whines in response, twisting his tiny body around until he’s lying belly-up in Yuuri’s lap, tail wagging furiously and tongue lolling out of his mouth. Yuuri snorts, the sound sadder than he’d like to admit, and begins to scratch Vicchan’s exposed belly, much to the dog’s delight. 

“Alright, I get it,” Yuuri says, choking back laughter, “more belly scratches, coming right up.” 

In the end, Yuuri knows what he has to do — he loves Vicchan, just as he loves Mom and Dad and Mari and Minako and Yuuko and everyone else here, in Hasetsu, but the ice is calling to him, and Yuuri has no choice but to follow it wherever it leads him. But, for now, Yuuri watches the sun set, hazy behind thick fog, and rubs Vicchan’s belly until the moon is high and bright in the sky, and his dog has long since fallen asleep in his lap. 

“Come on,” Mari says, finding them there long after the Matsuwas have turned in for the night, and not too long after Mom and Dad have done the same. Her breath smells like menthol and flame, with a hint of conbini beer, and her eyes are a hazy sort of soft as she watches Yuuri and Vicchan from inside the onsen. “It’s almost one in the morning, little brother.” She scratches at the sliver of stomach her rucked up tank top exposes and yawns, jaw cracking from the movement. “Get some sleep while you still can.” She waits until Yuuri stands, legs unsteady and full of pins and needles, Vicchan held securely in his arms despite them, and disappears into the darkness. Yuuri follows. 

* * *

**assolutaaaa:**

Is anyone going to watch junior worlds this year 

#figureskating #mensfigureskating #second question: is anyone watching katsuki specifically and wondering why hes still allowed to compete in junior level comps after the olympics #not to be That Person #but it seems kind unfair

* * *

The day before Yuuri leaves for America, Yuuko pulls him into the Ice Palace for one last hurrah. She’d apparently strong-armed Nishigori into closing the rink early, and now, it’s just her and Yuuri in the icy rink. Yuuko is, at this point in her pregnancy, too gravid to really skate safely, so it’s just Yuuri on the ice, skating compulsory figures while Yuuko watches, fiddling with something on the music player in her lap. 

“Hey,” Yuuko says, suddenly, in the tone of voice Yuuri knows means nothing but problems for his blood pressure, “come here for a second?” 

Yuuri skates over, quietly relishing in the sound of his blades against crisp ice, and leans over the barrier to get a better look at whatever Yuuko has up on the screen. “...What’s this?” He asks. 

“A song,” Yuuko says, unhelpfully. “I thought that maybe, you could,” she stops for a second and flushes. The blush looks strange on Yuuko, so out of place on her face, so out of touch with the brazen, confident person Yuuri has known, that he gets halfway to a panic attack before Yuuko shakes her head and barrels onwards, apparently at peace with whatever strange bout of bashfulness overtook her, “well, okay, basically, Minako-sensei told me that you’d been working with her and Sado-san on choreographing your own routines. I thought that, well, maybe you could try and choreograph something to this song?” Yuuko pushes herself up off the bleachers, waddling toward the sound booth. “Give me a second.” 

“Wait,” Yuuri says, already skating toward the gates, “let me—” 

“I’m pregnant, not invalid!” Yuuko says, shooting Yuuri a Look over her shoulder. The words sound practiced too, as if Yuuko has spent the last seven months saying the exact same thing to Nishigori, day in and day out. Yuuri doesn’t doubt that she has. He also doesn’t doubt that pressing the subject further might lead to Yuuko trying to chuck a skate at him, so Yuuri lets his protests die in his throat, and goes back to skating compulsory figures on the fresh ice. “Anyways,” Yuuko continues, shouting to be heard from the sound booth, “I think you’ll recognize this piece.” 

It’s _M.A.Y in The Backyard_ — of _course_ Yuuri recognizes the piece. His heart leaps into his throat as it fills the rink. “Yuuko,” Yuuri croaks, skidding to a stop by the barrier, “are you asking me—” 

Yuuko grins at him, and there is something so impossibly bittersweet in her smile. They both know _M.A.Y in The Backyard_. It had been the last routine Yuuko had ever skated, before she had given up her place as the Ice Palace’s Madonna to study for high school exams and eventually, marry Nishigori. It had been the routine she and Yuuri had spent months working on together, a product of countless sleepless nights spent pouring over poorly preserved recordings of routines, and piecing together a mess of a routine that eventually, Yuuko had taken to the ice for her final skate. 

“I am,” she says, and Yuuri thinks he might cry. “Seriously, we owe Sakamoto-san a much better routine for this particular piece.” Her voice is wry as she says this, and Yuuri can’t help but laugh, even though he thinks he might burst into miserable tears, the longer Yuuko speaks. “I can’t skate this routine anymore, Yuuri. These kids are definitely ruining my figure.” She pats her baby bump and grins, teeth bared. “But you definitely can, Mr. Olympic Medallist.” _M.A.Y in The Backyard_ is still playing, the violin part getting more and more frantic and complex. 

Already, Yuuri can see the bare bones of a routine. Quick, whip-like movements, and sharp, dangerous spins — the kind of routine Yuuri has always been afraid of, the kind of routine that threatens to break Yuuri with its intensity. Already, Yuuri knows that it will be a routine that will consume him. 

“...I’ll do it,” Yuuri says, after _M.A.Y in The Backyard_ has petered into stagnant silence. Yuuri doesn’t know if Yuuko can hear him, far away as the sound booth is, and as soft as his voice is, but he knows that she knows that there was no way Yuuri would have ever said no. Not to this. 

“This season,” Yuuri promises, raising his voice and meeting Yuuko’s eyes, all the way across the Ice Palace, “I’ll skate _M.A.Y in The Backyard_.” 

“Good,” Yuuko replies, and Yuuri thinks he sees a hint of teeth in her smile. “It better blow me away, Yuuri.” As if she would have accepted anything less. 

Later, as Yuuri is walking Yuuko home from the Ice Palace, too worried to let her make the trip alone, no matter how much she complains about overprotective boys, he leans against her, head on her shoulders, and says, “you’re kind of a menace.” 

Yuuko laughs, sharp and bright, the sound like a bell. “Duh,” she replies, “you’re just realizing this now?” 

Yuuri groans, and Yuuko laughs, sharp and bright and bell-like, all the way back to the Nishigoris’ house in the heart of town. 

* * *

katsuki yuuri fans EN >> mod announcements  
**tsukiyuu** wrote:

**GIFT/FAN LETTER COLLECTION RESULTS!!**

Hi guys! A suuuper quick update! Riko (ruriko3429 on Twitter), who was running the collection for gifts & fan letters for Yuuri, sent me an update on it! Yuuri did get our well-wishes & gifts — a post was made to his official Twitter account, with a message thanking everyone who sent him letters & gifts! We also got a picture of Yuuri with his gifts - right here \- and OMG it’s just so cute!!! All those stuffed dogs alongside the real Vicchan! Jill (jillybean on LJ) was kind enough to translate his tweet for us, and it reads as follows:

> Thank you to everyone who sent me gifts & well-wishes. Knowing that you are all looking out for me means a lot to me. I will do my best not to disappoint at Worlds. Thank you. 

Short as always, but that’s just Yuuri! For those of you who aren’t yet aware, Four Continents is taking place in Taiwan this year, and the first men’s event is this Friday! Since Yuuri is competing, Jill and I will be hosting another stream. More details to follow in another post.  


**3 comments…**

* * *

**TRANSCRIPT FROM 2011 FOUR CONTINENTS FIGURE SKATING CHAMPIONSHIP MEN’S PODIUM PRESS CONFERENCE.  
FEB. 19, 2011, 20:17**

**ANDERSON (ISU OFFICIAL/MC):** We will be starting with a few statements from the skaters themselves, and a few pre-selected reporters will be getting first questions. Afterwards, skaters may choose to answer questions on their own. Please keep all questions civil and stay orderly for the duration of the conference, or else ISU officials will shut down the conference early. Thank you. [TRANSLATOR SPEAKS TO TAKAHASHI.] 

**TAKAHASHI (TRANSLATED):** Thank you for coming today. It is an honor to have represented Japan alongside Katsuki and Kozuka today, and it is an honor to have won gold. [UNINTELLIGIBLE JAPANESE TOWARD KATSUKI.] 

**KATSUKI (TRANSLATED):** Ah — um, thank you, Takahashi. It was an honor to have been chosen to represent Japan and, um, I’m very grateful to have won silver today. I, uh, didn’t think I would. Thank you. 

**ABBOT:** It was an honor to have represented the US at Four Continents this year. I’m honored to have won bronze, and I hope to come back again next year! 

**ANDERSON:** Thank you, you three. We will now start with the pre-selected reporters. Reynolds? 

**REYNOLDS:** Thanks. This one is for all three of you: I understand that you were all at the Vancouver Olympics together? What was it like, reuniting on the ice again? I understand it’s been a while, especially since Katsuki is still in Juniors. 

**ABBOT:** I actually think I’m the only one who’s having a real reunion here. [LAUGHS.] I know both Takahashi and Katsuki have seen each other at the Japanese Nationals, and it’s my understanding that they were together with the rest of the Japanese contingent at the Grand Prix this past year? [PAUSE.] Okay, I just got told I was correct. Thanks, Daisuke. 

**ABBOT (CONT):** Anyways, it was really nice to see the both of them again. They were both as intimidating on the ice as they were at the Olympics. [LAUGHS.] It really was a blast from the past. 

**TAKAHASHI:** I agree. It was nice to see so many familiar faces — though I think this one was a little overwhelmed. [NUDGES KATSUKI.] 

**KATSUKI:** [NERVOUS LAUGHTER.] Ah, yes, a little bit. But it was nice to see everyone again, I think. I, um, also got to catch up with some friends I didn’t get to see at the Olympics. 

**TAKAHASHI:** I don’t think Yuna Kim was here, was she? 

**KATSUKI:** Oh — no, she wasn’t. One of her friends was, um, Crystal? 

**ABBOT:** Oh! I know Crystal. She’s nice, yeah! But I think we’ve gotten kind of off topic, sorry. 

**ANDERSON:** Thank you, Mr. Abbot. Moving on to the next reporter — Guo? 

**GUO (TRANSLATED):** Thank you. This question is for Takahashi. There have been rumors that you’re going to retire after this season floating around lately, especially after last year’s Olympic Games. Can you comment on them? 

**TAKAHASHI:** Thank you. Ah, contrary to whatever rumors there are floating around, I have no intention of retiring this season — you will see me for a few years more, after this. While I understand that there are many up and coming young skaters from Japan, I still have a good few seasons left, and I have no intention of being left in the dust! 

**GUO:** Katsuki, it sounds as if he’s challenging you. 

**KATSUKI:** Oh! Um...I won’t be left behind...either? 

**TAKAHASHI:** You have to sound more confident than that! 

**KATSUKI:** Ah, um, I… 

**ANDERSON:** Thank you, Mr. Guo. Moving on to our last pre-selected reporter — Miss Firenze? 

**FIRENZE:** Thank you, Mr. Anderson. Mr. Katsuki, can you comment on the so-called “quad scandal” that has popped up in the wake of last year’s Olympics? What are your thoughts on Evgeni Plushenko’s comments regarding you and Mr. Lysacek’s wins? 

**KATSUKI:** Oh. Um. I don’t really have much of a comment on that, I’m sorry. I think Mr. Lysacek deserved gold, and I am still incredibly honored that I even managed to win silver. I’m sorry, I don’t really have, well, much else to say. Sorry. 

**TAKAHASHI:** [UNINTELLIGIBLE JAPANESE.] I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand what that question has to do with the Four Continents Championship? I was under the impression that we were discussing this competition, not the Olympics. 

**ABBOT:** You know, I thought the same. Can we move to the next portion of the conference? 

**ANDERSON:** [CLEARS THROAT.] Moving on. The skaters will choose to answer questions as they see fit. Again, please keep the volume to a minimum, and remain orderly for the duration of this period. Once you have asked your question, you are not permitted another question. When the period is over, it is over. Any disorderly conduct will result in an early ending of the conference. Thank you. 

* * *

Three hours before his flight to Haneda Airport is set to leave from Fukuoka Airport, and five hours before his flight from Haneda Airport is set to leave for LAX, Yuuri hugs his family goodbye outside of Hasetsu station. He’s trying desperately to ignore the posters of him plastered on the wall, looking a little worse for wear after the earthquake, but Mari keeps nudging his head back toward them, and Yuuri thinks that it might just be time to throw dignity out the window and start brawling with his sister in public, much to their mother’s dismay. 

But Minako-sensei, who had shown up five minutes after the Katsukis had arrived at the train station, clicks her tongue warningly at Yuuri and Mari, and they both step away from one another. Yuuri goes to fiddle with his luggage tags nervously, checking them for what will not be the last time, and Mari goes to corral Vicchan, who is hopping around like a madman, hyper despite the sinfully early hour. 

“I’ve packed a bento in your carry-on,” Mom says, fussing with the ends of Yuuri’s scarf. It’s a bit too warm to be wearing it, but Yuuri had caved after Mom had insisted he wear it anyways, 'just in case.' “You should be fine to eat it at the airport — the eggs shouldn’t get too cold before you arrive at Haneda, but you should eat it before your flight leaves for Los Angeles, okay?” 

“Got it,” Yuuri says, and sniffs, trying not to cry. Vicchan is still hopping around, less out of sheer energy now, and more because Minako-sensei is dangling what looks like a dog treat above his head, but every time Yuuri manages to catch a glimpse of his dog, he feels like crying all over again. 

Mari, ever perceptive, picks Vicchan up, off the asphalt, and unceremoniously dumps him in Yuuri’s arms. “Say goodbye,” she commands, and wanders off to chat idly with Minako-sensei and Dad. 

Yuuri had thought that he had already said goodbye — four days ago, on the back porch had felt strangely like goodbye. If asked, Yuuri knows he couldn’t explain _why_ , just that there had been something strangely, sadly, final about that night spent out, watching the sun set and the moon rise, until Mari had come to chivvy both Yuuri and Vicchan into bed. 

Mom reaches over and runs a hand down Vicchan’s curly head. “Don’t worry, Yuuchan,” she murmurs, and pats Yuuri’s cheek gently, “we’ll take good care of him, okay? You’re not just leaving him behind.” 

“But I am,” Yuuri mumbles, and his cheeks burn as his voice thickens with tears. “I _am_. I’m always leaving him, Mom. And you, and Dad, and Mari. I’m always _leaving_.” 

Mom clicks her tongue and cups Yuuri’s face in her hands, so softly, so tenderly, that it takes everything Yuuri has not to burst into tears right there, in front of the train station. “Yuuchan,” Mom asks, voice gentle, “is this _not_ what you want to do?” 

“No,” Yuuri replies, voice wobbly, “I want to do this.” And he _does_. Yuuri wants this, more than anything else — there has been something missing since the Olympics, something Yuuri can’t explain, and doesn’t want to put into words. That something is the reason why Yuuri is moving his entire life to America, the reason why Yuuri is leaving his family behind, his friends behind — why Yuuri is leaving _Vicchan_ behind. _I want to_ win, Yuuri doesn’t say. Somehow, he thinks Mom hears it anyways. 

“So, _do it_.” Mom smushes his cheeks a little, the gesture the same one she’d done every day before Yuuri left the house for school, for a competition, or sometimes, even just to go to the Ice Palace. He feels impossibly young like this, being held by his mother, on the verge of tears. “Yuuchan, your dad, Mari, and I, we don’t want you to be stuck here in Hasetsu because you feel you’re leaving us behind. You can’t _ever_ leave us behind. You know why?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Because we are your _family_ , Yuuchan. And sometimes, that means that we’ll have to be apart for a bit. And it will hurt, and we will miss you, and you will miss us, but you know what, Yuuchan? I can live with that. So can Dad and Mari and Vicchan — because you’ll come home one day, Yuuchan. I know you. I know you will.” 

Mom smiles at him, soft and gentle and knowing, and Yuuri sniffles, nodding tearily. Vicchan barks in his arms, squirming between Yuuri and his mother. “Thank you,” Yuuri says, and buries his face in Vicchan’s fur. 

“Oh, Yuuchan,” is all Mom says in return, and they wait there, together, for the train to pull into Hasetsu Station. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick set of notes: all scores were taken (aside from yuuri's) from the ISU score database. all skaters named as of now (except for viktor) are real life skaters too! woohoo! ogata & seiji are not real people, as far as i know, but i hope you like their antics -- they were fun to write. 
> 
> you can find a playlist of all songs in carry me home thus far [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5l1qDsBEThhF4M64CPNVYf?si=5g-zKAq-QiOh2k_FzTG8tA). it'll be updated as chapters are posted! 
> 
> and the last thing - since the social media parts are going to keep popping up, i really need usernames. pls leave me username suggestions, and there's like a very big chance that they're going to get used. 
> 
> that's it from me this time! as usual you can find me on twitter @ mochiicreams. drop me a kudos, and leave a comment telling me what you liked! hope you're all healthy and safe. i know these are tough times.

**Author's Note:**

> haha. thanks for reading, if u got this far! as per usual, please leave me some tasty comments & kudos! i love hearing what you guys think of the story & whatever predictions u have for me. 
> 
> you can also find me on twitter @ [mochiicreams](https://twitter.com/mochiicreams). come chat with me there, too! dms are open ;)


End file.
